Aye, Aye, Captain!
by Missie DuCaine
Summary: COMPLETE! PostCaribbean Secrets. A choice has been made, and a new life begun. Now we've all got to live with the consequences!
1. Aboard the Pearl

Due to popular opinion, the Jack/Heather story begins! And no, I haven't decided yet whether or not I'll be combining the stories. People keep suggesting that, and I think it might be a good idea....then I can get on to the planned Lord of the Rings story faster! Mwa ha! (Actually, my room mate is impatiently awaiting that - seems I promised to write her into a story, or something....) 

  


So here it is, folks.

  


And yes, for those of you who haven't guessed, yes, this story _will_ make more sense if you read _Caribbean Secrets_ first. As this _is_ the sequel....

  
  


Well...normally, this would be the part where I tell you all how much I _don't_ own PotC, except.......Oil Pastel gave me the rights to it! *huggles, pauses, and looks around shifty-eyed* I'm not so sure _Disney_ knows that, though......

  
  


****************

  
  


The sun was, as suns are wont to do, setting. Standing, I brushed the dirt off my hands, and was moving to do the same for the back of my pants when someone else caught me off guard and did it for me. Laughing, I turned around, catching the offending hands, and leaned forward, grinning. "You, Jack Sparrow, are absolutely hopeless, you realize that? In front of your crew, and everything?"

  


He laughed, using the fact that I held his hands to pull me a little closer. "What can I say, luv? The company, the burying of treasure, the atmosphere..." he grinned. "I've always like sunsets."

  


I had to laugh. "You _would_, wouldn't you?"

  


He flashed golden teeth, arching an eyebrow. "And you _don't_, luv?"

  


I just grinned. "Now, Captain, I never said that."

  


"Aye, you didn't." He glanced over his shoulder at the freshly turned soil, frowning a little. "And just _why_ did you have to bury two perfectly good cutlasses?"

  


"They _weren't_ perfectly good," I corrected - again. "The weight was all off. Figures those Spaniards would have traded us faulty weapons for their lives." Shaking my head, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against Jack's. "Care to head back to the ship, Captain?"

  


"Now, _that_ depends."

  


"Oh? Does it?" I smirked, pulling back to give him my best curious glare. "And are you in the mood to explain just what you mean by that?"

  


His eyebrow arched suggestively again. "I was just wondering, luv, what exactly it was you _wrote_, in that there book we just placed six feet under for you."

  


It was _my_ turn to arch eyebrows. "What, you mean in all your times of sneaking peeks over my shoulder, you _still_ don't know what I wrote?" I grinned, and released his hands, stepping back a little. "I find that a _little_ hard to believe, Captain."

  


He laughed, and immediately made me regret (no wait, regret? I didn't regret it at all) releasing his hands, as he slid them around my waist and pulled me close to his chest. "Oh, really? All right, then, suppose I told you that, yes, I have read a large part of it, but that I was rather.....curious as to where you _ended_ it?"

  


"And why, captain, would _that_ make any difference?"

  


"Because, if you ended that _book_ like you ended your 'chapters', then in some 200 years, when you assume someone will find this, people are going to bring you back from the dead. So they can kill you."

  


"What, you think readers of the future won't appreciate me leaving them hanging?"

  


He laughed. "No."

  


Shrugging, I feigned naivety. "And why, Captain Jack Sparrow, would it make any difference to you?"

  


"Because, Mrs. Jack Sparrow, I want to know what you told people." He grinned, lowering his face to hiss in my ear. "And if I'm gonna get any desperate girls attacking me for a piece of your bounty."

  


"Jack!" I burst out in laughter, but tried to act scandalized. "Why, with _that_ cheek, I don't think I'll _ever_ tell you!"

  


He raised an eyebrow. "That your final word on it, then?"

  


"Yes. Yes it is." I hid a grin. 

  


"Right then." He released my waist, but before I could ask what he was doing, I let out a yelp as I found myself dangling over his shoulder.

  


"_Jack_?! What're you _doing_?!"

  


He glanced over his shoulder, grinning, and reaching up to pat my rear with his spare hand. "If you're not going to tell me of your own accord, I'm just going to have to take you back to the _Pearl_, and force the information from you myself."

  


"Jack!" I laughed, as he began walking back down the beach, the last few straggling crew members still on shore turning to stare at us with wide eyes. "Put me down, you Neanderthal!"

  


"If I knew what those were, I'm sure I'd be more impressed," Jack grinned, not putting me down at all.

  


I smacked his butt in an attempt at retaliation, but at his laugh, I don't think it worked. As he splashed into the water, headed for the rowboat Red held steady, I laughed, "I ended right after we got on the _Pearl_, alright? Now put me down!"

  


"Oh, no. Yer not gettin' off _that_ easy." He swung me off his shoulder, and I landed with a little thud on the seat of the rowboat. "I said I'd get that information out of you myself," he paused, and kissed the end of my nose. "And I _will_."

  


I grinned, and leaned up to kiss his chin. "Aye, aye, captain."

  
  


*******************

  
  


20 years earlier, the sun was, as it does, setting. The sun was setting, the wind was in our sails, Port Royal was swiftly growing smaller behind us, and I was snuggled against Jack's chest, one of his arms around me, the other resting on the wheel. It was quiet, peaceful, just the two of us, the crew having left us alone for the while. I didn't want this to end, ever.

  


I tried to stop it, but a yawn suddenly worked its way out of my mouth. It _had_ been a long day, what with sword fighting, and rescuing a man from the gallows, and ditching a fiancé, and jumping off a cliff, and swimming across several leagues, only to climb up onto a pirate's ship. I'd say I deserved a yawn.

  


Jack laughed. "Tired, luv?"

  


"It's been a long day," I muttered, failing again at preventing a yawn.

  


"Aye," he agreed, then raised his voice. "Oy, AnaMaria!"

  


"Yes?" AnaMaria asked pointedly, mounting the steps of the quarterdeck. 

  


"The helm is yours," he said, patting the wheel fondly. "The lass needs some shut-eye."

  


"Right," she laughed, taking the wheel, as Jack led me down the steps. "I know as well as you that you have no intentions of sleep." 

  


Jack just grinned, and I was glad for the encroaching night, so he couldn't see just how bright red my face was. 

  


"So, Captain," I said, shivering a little against the growing cold of the night. "If you'd be so kind as to direct me to my cabin?"

  


He laughed. "But of course." A few steps more, and he swung open a door and pushed me in ahead of him. Then he stepped in behind me, and shut the door behind him, plunging the room into almost complete darkness.

  


"Jack. This is _your_ cabin."

  


I jumped as arms snaked around my waist, breath trailing over my neck. "That would be the point."

  


"Jack..." For a moment, I was quite distracted from what I had been intending to say by kisses running down my neck, but when his teeth nipped the skin, I pulled away. "Jack," I said, shakily, then cleared my throat, and started again. "Jack. Stop it."

  


He nibbled on my earlobe, instead. 

  


"Jack, I mean it!" I tugged against him, quite perturbed that his iron arms weren't letting go. 

  


"What, suddenly we're shy and ladylike again?" He didn't sound impressed. 

  


"I never _wasn't_," I protested, then paused. "Okay, so I was. Look, Jack. I have lines that I refuse to cross. And you're getting dangerously close to one of them."

  


Jack sounded frustrated. "Luv, _you_ were the one that came on board _my_ ship."

  


"I know, but I still have lines. And one of them is that I still refuse to...to....well, _you know_, until I'm married!" I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring into the darkness.

  


His arms tightened, and I found myself crushed back against him. "Yer refusing a _pirate captain_ in his _own cabin_ after inviting _yourself_ aboard?" He hissed in my ear.

  


I swallowed. "Yes."

  


Silence for a moment, then Jack's arms released me. I took a quick couple steps forward, wrapping my arms around myself to try and stop my shaking. "Darn it, Jack. Why'd you have to do that?"

  


"Because I'm a pirate, and that's what pirates _do_?" His voice was still only inches from my ear, and I shivered again.

  


"Jack, if you're _trying_ to make me loose all morals, you're on the right path!"

  


There was a flash of golden teeth to my right in the dim light. "Ah, then, I'm doing an excellent job!"

  


"Aw, stop it." I crossed the room, and sat down on the bed, curling my knees up to my chin. "Look, Jack, I...I really don't know how to say this. I like you, yes, heck, Jack, I may even more than like you, I don't know." I glared into the darkness, trying to figure out what to say. "Okay, honestly, I would _love_ to do what you're suggesting."

  


There was a shifting of weight on the bed behind me, then Jack asked, "And then, why not?"

  


"Because I made a promise to myself," I said firmly. "I promised that I wouldn't cross that line until I was married to someone I was going to spend the rest of my life with."

  


There was silence. "And you don't think you'll stay for the rest of your life?"

  


"Jack, you're a pirate. I don't know if _you'll_ stay the rest of my life."

  


"Ah." The balnce shifted again, and hands set gently on my shoulder. "Luv. I can't promise I'll stay. Not now. Maybe never. But...would it help if I said I wouldn't _want_ to leave?"

  


I sighed. "Maybe. A little."

  


"Right." Silence, then Jack spoke up again. "What if...ye just stayed here, anyways. We don't do anything unless you give it the word, savvy?"

  


I paused, then had to smile. "Alright, I suppose. Sharing your bed, but not _technically_ sleeping with you?"

  


"Right!" He leaned back, then a flare of light burst suddenly into the room, as Jack struck match to candle. Holding the flame aloft, he looked around, spotting a bottle of rum on the table. "Now there's the key, luv!" He cheered somewhat, leaping off the bed to snatch up the bottle. He uncorked it with his teeth, leaning back to take a swig. 

  


Sighing, he lowered the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "_That's_ the stuff," he grinned, then offered the bottle. "Want some, luv?"

  


I grabbed the bottle from his fingers, carefully tipping a little into my mouth. It still burned on the way down, but I think desert islands have a terrible effect on me. I'd been craving the stuff ever since we _left_ the island. "Thanks," I grinned, sipping a bit more.

  


Jack raised an eyebrow, setting the candlestick back down on the bedside table, and sitting beside me. "You can't drink, luv."

  


I shot him a nasty look. "You tell my mother that. She says I drink like a beer guzzler."

  


He made a face. "Beer? That's for little girls. Rum, now _that'_s the real stuff!"

  


I rolled my eyes, then obliged and took a proper swig of the drink. Nearly ended up choking on it, too, as I handed the bottle back, gasping. Jack laughed, setting the bottle on the table beside the candle - after taking a swig first.

  


And then, he blew out the candle, and settled back onto the bed. "Sleeping, luv?"

  


"Right," I said, a little warily, and shifted on the bed, moving to a spot where he wasn't. "Um...I don't suppose you have any kind of...nightclothes, I could change into?"

  


"Ah, no."

  


"Nothing?"

  


"Nope. Although you're quite welcome to simply sleep in the buff, if you prefer."

  


"That, Captain, would be quite counter-productive." I lifted the covers, and carefully slid between them. "Goodnight, Jack."

  


Silence.

  


"Jack?"

  


Still no answer. The man couldn't be asleep _already_.

  


"Jack? Ya lug, yer not sleeping." I sat up, leaning over to look at him. "Jack? C'mon, you - hey!" I let out a yelp as his arms snaked up back around my waist, swinging me back on top of the pirate captain.

  


"Now this is an interesting turn of events," he said, and I just _knew_ he was grinning. "Change yer mind after all?"

  


I rolled my eyes, and shook my head, despite the fact that I knew he couldn't see it in the dark. "Very funny, Jack. No, I have not. Now, you want to let go, please?"

  


"Right. O' course. Sorry about that, luv. But really, if you don't intend to do anything, you shouldn't be climbing on top of pirate captains when they're trying to sleep." He released me, then, but not before leaning up to plant a little kiss on my forehead. "Savvy?"

  


"Savvy, Jack," I agreed, rolling back over, and curling up into a ball. "Now, _goodnight_."

  


"Right. Until morning, luv."

  


"Until morning." I agreed, closing my eyes. Provided I managed to last until morning.

  
  


*******************

  
  


Mwa ha! First chapter of the first sequel!!! (Sounds like a bad summer movie, doesn't it?)

  


Well, don't forget to review/flame/scream in agony/etc. And, if you want to join my mailing list, for informing about updates, don't forget to give me your email/name!

  


Thankies!

  
  



	2. Very Mixed Messages

Okay, I realize that this has been massively slow, and for that, I apologize. See, I _did _try to work on it when I wasn't studying for midterms (grrr.....university....grr....), but then Jack kept asking why I was spending more time with "that blasted noisy box" (i.e. my computer) instead of with him.

  


Now, to avoid the risk of someone stealing him when I wasn't looking (I had to beat off two more fangirls yesterday) I spent my time with him, instead of working on the story.

  


However, by the time I came home from school today, Jack had discovered _Hook_, so he's off busy reading, and I can finally get some work done. Yay!

  
  


_Cynikalbitch: _Why, thank you! Someone appreciates me, anyways. Love the français! 

  


_Sweet A.K.: _Ooh...I actually managed to make it sound like Jack, too? Wowsers. Thankies!

  


_Saiyan-girl-cheetah: _Boo-yah, Heather kicks ass! *runs off to go ass-kicking* Glad you liked it then, hope it gets better for you!

  


_HyperCaz: _Hm, I've been thinking of crossing them over, but how to make the perspectives work? Must think on that. And you are hooked cause I worked darn hard to make sure you would be, and there's been this miraculous strange bolt of lightening that hit me and made my work _good_, or something like that.

  


_BubblyFizz03: _Yeah, I kinda figured Jack wouldn't be able to handle that all that well.....mwa ha! Glad you liked the other one, thankies!

  


_I88er-az: _You _do_ have a point there. Plus, no one wants to read that much Heather.....;P Although, oddly enough, I've not really a fan of chocolate anyway! Hey....I know someone with the exact same name as you, she went to my highschool! Amazing...

  


_Sugaricing: _You almost _worship_ my writing?! *falls off chair* WOW! *huggles* You make me feel all specially......and what happens to Christine? Well.....if I combine these, you'll get to find out!

  


_Ninjix: _Aww....thanks! I'm glad you like it so much!

  


_Valor: _*huggles* Aww....thank you! Glad it was a good beginning, though. I was worried about that.

  


_Eva: _Thanks! Here we go!

  


_Lyssa2: _Erm. Yeah, maybe I should have been clearer on that, or something. Yeah, somehow, I can't see Jack being a perfect gentleman either....*laughs evilly* Millions of bloody plot twists, then? Can do! 

  


_Thunderfoot: _Meh, the second chapter wasn't quick, though. And even combining, I'm gonna still try to keep this one short. I think I may combine, but it should be only 10 chapters at most. *crosses fingers* And seriously, I can sympathize with uni assignments.....Classics essay, library assignment, and a website due next week.....blarg.

  


_Lady J. Riddle: _Yay! *huggles* Someone proud of her for standing up to him! Though you're very right - it _would_ be darn difficult to keep them around Jack! 

  


_AndriJ: _Ooh....you were waiting for it and everything? Wow. And it _was_ a good thing you checked! Although, it still took awhile for this one....

  


_DarkBeauty: _Yes, yes I _am_ having far too much fun. :D Mwa ha! Turners!

  


_Brem Nakada: _Yes, yes he is. *grins* But I _like_ cheeky little devils! Thank you so much!

  
  


Let's see, now....do I own Jack? *glances over her shoulder* Despite the fact that he's sitting on my bed reading, no. He belongs to Disney. And the _Black Pearl_? Jack's. Heather? Mwa ha! She's MINE! So no sue me.

  
  


************************

  
  


It was warm. Warm, comfortable, soft, blankets wrapped around me in an oddly tight twist, and still dark. I half opened my eyes, wriggling the fingers on my left hand to make sure they still worked, then trying to wiggle those on my right and rediscovered that they were bandaged. I'd forgotten about that. But of course, the moment I thought of it, all of that dull ache came rushing back, along with a sharp sting in the inside on my wrist. That would be the seawater - hadn't the doctor _warned_ me about getting it wet?

  


Sighing, I closed my eyes again against the almost-dawn dimness of the room, and snuggled deeper into the blankets. Until I realized that I wasn't snuggling into _blankets_ when those blankets tightened around _me_, and whispered, "Now _this_ is more like it," in my ear.

  


Eyes snapping back open, I craned my neck back, discovering that what I had at first believed were blankets were, in actual fact, one pirate captain. "Oh, crap," I whispered.

  


He laughed. "Now that's a new one, luv." He nuzzled at my ear, lips brushing at the sensitive crook of neck and head. Oddly enough, it tickled my neck, until I realized that those ridiculous little braids of his were trailing across the skin. "You know, this would have to be a new experience, for me."

  


"What, waking up in the morning with a woman still _fully clothed_ in your bed?" I shot back, trying _very_ hard to ignore what those nuzzling kisses were doing to my insides.

  


"Actually..." there was a pause. "Yes."

  


I rolled my eyes. "Figured as much." 

  


"Of course..." his kisses began to trail lower, now starting across my shoulder. Wait, why was my shoulder bare anyway? It _shouldn't_ have been. "There's still enough 'night' left to remedy _that_ situation."

  


I pulled away from him, though, to my slight (but only slight, really, all things considered) consternation, his arms were still latched around me with enough strength to prevent me actually getting away from him. Instead, I turned my attention to my bare shoulder, frowning at the shirt that had somehow become somewhat unbuttoned, and shifted in the night, exposing a shoulder, half my arm, and considerable amounts of my collarbone area. "Jack," I said firmly, making him look up from nipping at that offending shoulder. "I _had_ a vest on last night. Why am I _not_ wearing that vest now?"

  


He arched an eyebrow. "Ye were?"

  


"Yes. Dark green. Fitted. I was wearing it when I climbed aboard yesterday, perhaps you can recall that?" I glared at him, quite curious as to how he was going to weasel his way out of _this_ one.

  


He frowned for a moment, turning his eyes skyward as though expecting to see a message printed on the ceiling. And then his eyes visibly lit up, even in the dim dark, like stars appearing suddenly in an ebony sky. "Ah, yes." He turned back, grinning. "I remember that. _Very_ nicely fitted, if I do say so myself."

  


I admit it. I blushed. Again. "Jack...." I swallowed, trying to banish that darn feeling of delicious knots in my stomach. "Jack, what _happened_ to that vest?"

  


Another pause. "You mean you don't know?"

  


"Ah, would I be _asking_, if I knew?" I shot him a dry look.

  


His eyebrows contorted themselves into some semblance of one raised, the other dipping over his dark eyes. "You mean you don't _remember_?"

  


It was _my_ turn for eyebrows to do gymnastics. "Now, hold up here, Mr. Sparrow. I don't remember _what_?"

  


"Hoo dear," he released my waist finally, at least one hand, anyway, to roll back onto his back, gesturing wildly at the ceiling. "Ya hear that? She doesn't even remember!"

  


I do believe I gaped at him wide-eyed. Yes, gaping definitely occurred. "Jack...I didn't....I _didn't_ do anything....stupid, did I?"

  


"Well, that depends on your definition of 'stupid'," he began, waving his hand again. But upon seeing my absolutely horror-struck expression, he sighed. "Luv, you took the stupid vest off in the middle of the night. Muttered something about being too hot. See? Right over there, you tossed it on the end of the bed."

  


I lifted my head a little, and checked. Sure enough, my vest lay crumpled at the end of the bed. I shot Jack one last suspicious look, then dropped my head back onto the pillow, but not before I yanked the collar of my shirt back up to my neck where it belonged. He just grinned, reaching up to play with a loose lock of my hair, twisting it round his finger. 

  


It _was_ comfortable, laying there, one of Jack's arms under me, just in the small of my back, the other hand idly playing its way across my hair, light slowing growing in the room. I rested my hands on my stomach, fingers laced, and my eyes started to grow heavy again. Eyes half closed, I barely noticed when his hand left my hair, but when I spotted it inching towards the buttons on my shirt, I spoke up. "Captain, if you want a smack right about now, then I would continue." His hand paused, hovering for a moment just above my chest, as though weighing the pros and cons, so I stressed the point just a little clearer. "In fact, should you continue, I may just demand to be brought back to Port Royal. I'm sure Francis would respect my wishes."

  


Jack's hand suddenly retreated, as the pirate muttered, "Damn pansy redcoat."

  


"He got a blue coat, actually," I murmured, willing to let the almost-unbuttoning go this time, since I was just _so darn_ comfy. In fact, I was very nearly asleep again when a knock rang on the door, and Gibbs voice called for his captain.

  


Jack cursed, awkwardly pulling his arm out from under me, flexing it to get some feeling back into the limb. "Sorry, luv," he said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his boots. "Duty calls."

  


"Of course," I sighed, sighing. "It figures."

  


He laughed, turning back around, flopping down so he rested on his elbows. "Of course, I'm sure AnaMaria can handle the helm, so if you..." he was interrupted by Gibbs loudly knocking again, and he shot the door an irritated look. "I'm _coming_, already," he said with a sigh, hauling himself up. 

  


Sitting up, I ran one hand through my tangled hair, then dangled my feet over the edge of the bed, reaching for my boots. Yanking them on, I had just stood and was running a hand through my hair again when Jack opened the door.

  


Gibbs stood in the opening, hand raised to knock again. He opened his mouth, then stopped, eyes widening as he gaped past Jack. I gave him my patented 'what, did I grow another head?' look, and glanced behind me to see what he was looking at. Nothing seemed out of place. Arching an eyebrow, I looked back at him, and asked, "What? Something wrong?"

  


Jack glanced over his shoulder too, but instead of gaping, a rather lecherous grin spread across his features, before crossing the floor, and reaching a hand forward to grab the collar of my shirt, which had somehow managed to slide down again. Tugging it up to its proper position, he grinned, reaching down to do up a couple of the buttons. "Ye were getting _mighty_ close to showing Mr. Gibbs a sight I don't think he's seen in a _long_ time, lass."

  


I shot him a scadalized look, jerking back from his hands on my shirt buttons (again). "Do you _mind_?" I demanded, to which he just laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and leading me back to the door, and his first mate.

  


"Well, now, Gibbs," Jack confronted the older man, who's eyes had still not lost their gaping look. "To what point and purpose would you have been interrupting us this morning?"

  


Gibbs started, coughing nervously. "Er...right. There's something you ought to be seeing, Captain."

  


Jack rolled his eyes, and sauntered out onto deck after the other man. Despite what one might think, I discovered, still dipped comfortably under his arm, that matching his swaggered pace wasn't even all that difficult, especially when you have motivation for keeping up the ridiculous thing. And despite the fact that I didn't want to _sleep_ with the man, (well, not _yet_, anyway) I think, I suspect, I'm pretty sure, that I was rapidly losing myself to the spell of those hypnotic black eyes. 

  


"Now, what's this ye think I need to see this early in the morning?" Jack asked lazily, now that we'd reached the prow. Gibbs solemnly took out a spyglass, handing it to Jack, then pointing to a spot on the horizon. Jack lifted his arm from my shoulder to hold the glass, aiming it out over the waves.

  


I looked in the direction he pointed, but all I could see, in any direction, amidst the endless water, was a tiny black spot on the horizon. It was on this that Jack was focusing, and although I could see nothing of interest in a tiny, far away spot, a rather devious smile was spreading across Jack's face. 

  


"Now that _is_ interesting, isn't it?" He smirked, lowering the glass, and passing it back to Gibbs. "Nice big one, too. Fair to burst with swag, I'm certain."

  


"Are either of you planning on telling me just _what_ it is you're talking about?" I demanded, earning a grin from Jack and a startled look from Gibbs. He muttered something - as always - about women being horrible bad luck on board a ship, but handed me the glass.

  


Nodding my thanks, I set the device to my eye, wincing as a severely twisted world jumped into view. These old spyglasses had the worst, distorted lenses. But we'd had a set just like these in that lighthouse museum I'd worked in the summer of freshman year in highschool, and when the days were slow, I could sometimes be found at the top of the lighthouse, when I should have been dusting the light, playing with the spyglass. What's the point of having old artifacts, anyway, if you can't use them? So all my memories of playing with that thing, trying to spot the boats as they headed in and out of the power-plant harbor on the point came back to me, and I twisted the focusing lens until I could see that spot on the horizon.

  


"Hmm. Nice ship. Spanish armada. Headed..." I paused to check the sun. "East, so no doubt headed home with a nice hold of Caribbean gold." I grinned, looking up at Jack, who looked somewhat startled.

  


"How'd you know it was a Spanish vessel?" He asked, taking the glass to check again for himself. 

  


"It's got the _flag_, right on the back prow," I pointed out, shaking my head as he twisted his face up in a strangely cute expression, trying to make out the flag. "C'mon, don't tell me that the _great Captain Jack Sparrow_ can't make out a flag from this distance."

  


He shot me a quick sideways look, then waved his hands for a moment, landing dramatically on his chest in a flourish. "O' _course_, luv! I _am_ Captain Jack Sparrow, after all, aren't I?" He nodded to Gibbs. "Set a course, mate. We'll be taking us some shine, methinks." 

  


Gibbs nodded, as Jack solemnly offered the glass back to Gibbs with a dramatic flourish. Gibbs then turned, barking out orders, letting all know the plan. 

  


Jack watched appraisingly for a moment, the spun, setting his hands on my shoulders. "And you, lass, are naught but a pirate whelp, and, what was it Barbossa called ye again? Ah, yes. A hellcat."

  


I smirked, and decided that yes, I was going to send this man horribly mixed messages. Such is the feminine prerogative. 

  


Sliding my hands around his waist, I tilted my head, slipping close to him. "Best keep a watch about yourself, then, Captain, as it is my experience that cats tend to _devour_ sparrows."

  
  


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Mwa ha! End of chapter!

  


Oh dear. Jack just discovered the color photo inserts in the middle of the book.....and is now loudly declaring that anyone who dresses like Captain Hook is a pansy.

  


I think he's jealous. 

  
  


REVIEW!!!! Mwa ha!

  
  



	3. Just Edward

Mwa ha! From the shadows, I emerge, fully intending to present another chapter _despite_ the essay I _should_ be writing! Mwa ha! 

  


Okay, I'll write the essay tomorrow, _honest_!

  


And while we're on deadlines.....I don't suppose, by some stroke of reviewer genius, that you could give me 50 reviews, could you? Huh? Huh? Pleeeaaase?

  
  


_Sweet A.K.: _Yes, Jack thinks Hook is a pansy. I think it's the frilly collar. Glad it sounds like him!

  


_Lady J. Riddle: _Pillaging! Whee! And hey, Indiana Jones kicks major evil-tushie! Go Indy! :D

  


_morph: _*grovels, begs for forgiveness* I'm so sorry! I mean it! And I sincerely _hope_ these chapters meet up with expectations....or you have permission to thump me! (The same holds true for if I should ever be stupid enough to forget you again!)

  


_Khamul: _Yes, there _are_ quite a few fangirls, strangely enough. Wonder why? And glad Heather kicks some ass...redcoat and pirate alike!

  


_I88er-az: _Yes, I _am_ an evil genius. Mwa ha! And I have _capable_ hands when it involves Captain Jack Sparrow? Are you _sure_? And pirate Heather is wicked, _yes_!! *happy rum dance* And yeah, it _is_ weird about the name, isn't it? There's about 50 bazillion Heather's around here and back home where I went to highschool....one of my art classes had 6 Heathers...

  


_Saiyan-girl-cheetah: _Why, thank you! Yes, that last chapter was my favorite line too....ooh....scandalous! Ooh...Captain Jacky Sparrow! That may be what I'm being for Hallowe'en...either that or Dazzler, I dunno.

  


_Completeopposites: _Thanks! Here comes more!

  


_BeautyDark: _Yes, it is our prerogative! Our duty! Canary pants and Jack are two different creatures, luv!

  


_Pirate-Jazzy: _I love it too! Seems to be a very popular idea, somehow.... and is there any way we'd rather have Jack than horribly confused? Glad you're enjoying!

  


_LaDyKaGoMe409: _I really am quite impressed, that you think I've got him that in-character! *happy rum dance* And I get Jack because I'm quite too much obsessed...

  


_Lilrujan: _Ahh...poor Ruthie...all alone! I'm actually amazed that I've managed to write all these "lovey-dovey" scenes too, as, really, this is _such_ a self-insertion fic that I wasn't lying about never having drunk, or never having kissed a guy before. Yes, that's right - none of this lovey-dovey is taken from personal experience - I'll be 19 in...19 days, and I ain't even held a guy's hand before!! So thank you forever for your confidence! I need it!

  


_TriGemini: _Ooh....I luv you! *huggles* Yes, I thought they were funny too....I had entirely too much fun writing this, I think! And yes, Hellcat will pretty much be sticking as a nickname for Heather. Too much fun to leave it out! 

  


_Lyssa2: _Ack! No Rebecca! No seawater! And sheesh, all those geography classes where they made us memorize country's flags had _better_ come in use _sometime_ in our lives, right? And yeah, I can't see Jack being a proper gentleman with _anyone_, no matter what some fanfics I've read try to tell you. *huggles*

  


_~KKR~: _Glad you like it! And yes, I _do_ share the morals. I don't believe one should do any of that until married, and one thing that drives me nuts more than anything is those fanfics where the character expresses the same belief, then along waltzes the author's lust object, and suddenly, all the characters morals go out the window. It disgusts and saddens me. But anyways, thanks!

  


_BubblyFizz03: _Mwa ha! Am a good noter! And Uni is good...except that it eats your life.

  


_Christé: _You have returned! *huggles* You don't give up on the string-the-sequels together idea, do you? Fortunately for _you_, I'd already started this chapter before you reviewed, or I'd be tempted not to, just to spite you....:D

  
  


Nope. No own nothing. Save a barely-started Classics essay about Greek women........

  


*******************

  
  


Silence, for a moment, reigned. 

  


And then, with a soft sigh, Commodore Norrington turned, his normally commanding stride reduced to more of a dejected slump. Behind him, his former fiancée and the attention of her affections were slightly distracted by each other, her father also walking away, smiling slightly wistfully.

  


That left one rather depressed lieutenant, and a young woman dressed in one of those horribly restrictive corset-dress combinations. And as she had no great desire to remain with her depressed companion, she, hiking her skirts up, ran after the Commodore.

  


"Commodore Norrington!" She called, making him half-turn, surprise on his features. 

  


"Miss Christine," he said softly, with a slight nod. 

  


Slowing to stand beside him, she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I...I'm sorry about Elizabeth, sir."

  


Norrington's eyes strayed to the couple standing on the battlements. "It was not meant to be," he said softly, wistfully. "How could I keep her from what her heart desires?"

  


Christine nodded, reaching up to play with the ribbons that held her hat strapped on. "Heather seemed to follow hers as well," she said softly. "I guess we're an awful lot alike, Commodore. Two left-behind souls."

  


A ghost of a smile crossed the Commodore's face. "Yes, that we seem to be." He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "The day is still young. Might you fancy a walk? I'm afraid that I may not be the most pleasant of company, but I can promise at least a companion better than I estimate Lieutenant Parsons may be at the moment."

  


Christine laughed, glancing back at that one Francis Parsons, who stood staring out at sea, looking as though he was going to burst into tears at any moment. "That you probably _would_ be," she smiled. "He doesn't seem very cheerful at the moment, poor man."

  


"And one can blame him?" He asked, then offered his arm. "Deign to accompany, m'lady?"

  


"Gladly," she smiled, looping her hand through his arm. "And to what destination shall we make, Commodore?"

  


Norrington frowned slightly. "I can offer a humble cup of tea, should you like to accompany me to my home?"

  


"I should like that," she smiled, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from grinning. Honestly, it was ridiculous, the way everyone talked like everything was just _spiffing_ (and wasn't _that_ a funny British word?) when the entire world had just fallen down around them? And this talking in haughty, hoighty-toighty style...it nearly made her want to start laughing her head off. Instead, she just bit the inside of her cheeks, and matched Norrington's pace. 

  


"Will you be returning home, to St. George?" He asked suddenly, breaking her out of her silence. 

  


"Oh, no," Christine shook her head. "There's nothing there for us now. I suppose you will have heard how we were shipwrecked, here? I do believe my grandfather was lost to the ocean."

  


"I'm sorry," Norrington said softly, his other hand reaching up to awkwardly pat her hand where it rested on his arm. "That must be hard for you."

  


"Yes," she said thoughtfully, looking away. "My sense of pain seems to have been dulled, somewhat, by the events of the last month, however. I feel...numb, much of the time."

  


The hand resting on hers tightened. "I swear, had that creature masquerading as a man still been alive..." A look a fury had descended on his usually calm face. "I would certainly not have allowed him his liberty, not now, not ever."

  


"Well, I'm flattered," she smiled a little, glancing up at him. "Thank you."

  


He flushed, and loosened his hold on her hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that..."

  


"Oh, no, please do." Christine grinned, reaching her other hand up to lightly pat his arm. "It makes me feel quite protected, to know that a Commodore of the Royal Navy would react so strongly to a threat towards me. Do carry on."

  


A light chuckle escaped the Commodore, a smile touching his lips again. He made no further comment, as they seemed to have reached his home, a medium sized home for the area, but mind-staggeringly large compared to the tiny houses she'd seen as they walked. He led her up the steps, and they didn't have to open the door, as it was opened for them by a butler.

  


"Ah, Poole," Norrington smiled, greeting the older man. "Thank you. Could you perhaps inform Molly that we have a guest for tea?"

  


"Of course, sir," Poole answered, holding out a hand for Norrington's hat and coat. "Might I take your hat, miss?"

  


"Oh! Of...of course!" Startled a little, Christine fumbled at the ribbons under her chin for a moment, before Norrington startled her.

  


"Here, let me," he said politely, and she quickly dropped her hands as he bent to unravel the twisted knot. "There we are!" Proudly lifting the hat off her head, he turned to deposit it in Poole's hand. "We'll take tea in the drawing room, Poole."

  


"Of course, sir," Poole nodded, then turned to leave the hallway. 

  


Christine looked around awkwardly, taking in the fine mahogany hall desk, the carefully woven tapestries lying on the floor as rugs. "It's a very beautiful home, Commodore."

  


"Thank you," he nodded. "The drawing room is just..." he froze, as he had lightly touched her arm to draw her attention, and she had winced, pain chasing its way across her face. "What's wrong?"

  


"Nothing," she lied, gritting her teeth. "It's just a small injury, it's nothing..."

  


Norrington didn't sound like he was going to stand for it. "Come," he ordered, leading her towards the drawing room. 

  


_He's acting like I'm one of his soldiers_, Christine thought to herself, half-grinning, despite the fact that her arm felt like it was on fire - again. "Really, it's nothing," she protested, but Norrington pointed firmly to a chair, and she sank into it, watching him warily.

  


"Roll the sleeve up," he ordered, and when Christine didn't do so immediately, he raised an eyebrow. "I _could_ simply call for the doctor, but I doubt he'd be as considerate about your modesty."

  


Christine shot him a narrow-eyed glare, but he managed to look detachedly innocent. Frowning, she took the cuff of her shirt, and carefully rolled it as far as her elbow before pausing. Shooting him the same suspicious, narrow-eyed glare, she maintained, "It's really nothing. Are you sure you don't want to just move onto to something more pleasant? Like tea, maybe?" She watched him hopefully, but the look he shot her _clearly_ said 'no arguments'.

  


Sighing, she took the edge of the sleeve, and tugged it up to her shoulder, revealing her upper arm.

  


"My...God..." Norrington gasped, not even noticing that he was, in fact, doing one of the very things he abhorred about pirates - in taking the Lord's name in vain. 

  


There was _reason_, of course. Her entire upper arm was a mass of bruising, some still dark red, others faded to dull purple, other places festering black and yellow. They were _hand-prints_, the marks of a man's hand gripping her arm far harder than ever necessary. Norrington leaned forward, gingerly touching the afflicted limb, which caused Christine to wince, pulling her arm back again.

  


"Did that _creature_ do this?!" He demanded, face set into a terrifying fury. "Barbossa? Did _he_ do this to you?!"

  


Christine winced, and nodded.

  


"Good God," he murmured. Then he stood again, Christine standing with him. "No, please, sit."

  


"It's just a bruise," she protested, though Norrington did _not_ look convinced. "It's nothing, really."

  


"It is _not_ nothing," he said firmly, and pointed at the chair. "Now, please. Sit." When she slowly lowered herself into the chair, he nodded, then turned to the door, moving to open it, just as it swung open from outside, admitting Poole and a tray of tea. "Ah, Poole. Excellent."

  


"Yes, sir?" Poole asked politely, setting the tray carefully on the table. He glanced up, turning to look at Norrington, but his eyes landed first on Christine's arm, and his gaze froze. "Miss, you're injured!"

  


"I'm _not_..." she started, but Norrington smoothly interrupted her again.

  


"Poole, would you please fetch the salve for me? This needs treatment." 

  


"Of course, sir," Poole nodded, leaving. 

  


Christine gaped at the Commodore. "It's just a _bruise_! It's not like it's a cut even, or anything, it's just a _bruise_!" 

  


"Yes, but one _that_ bad could easily go septic," Norrington said, altogether too calmly, moving to pour two cups of tea. "Now, have some tea while we wait for Poole, will you? It's earl grey, I do hope that's alright."

  


Christine glared into the cup suspiciously. The only tea she drank was green, and then, only because she needed to pull an all-nighter to finish a project. Steeling her guts for what she assumed was going to be something absolutely horrible, she lifted the cup to her mouth, and swallowed. _Hmm_, she thought. _Not _too_ bad. Kinda...tea-ish, I guess. _Lifting hereyes from her cup, she watched Norrington, drinking his own tea, through her eyelashes. He didn't seem to notice, so she let her eyes trail over him appraisingly. _He's not half bad looking_, she decided. _Elizabeth really doesn't know what she's missing._ She took another sip of tea, then mused, _I wonder what he looks like _without_ the wig?_

  


Her rather random thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Poole with the bottle of salve, and she watched warily as Norrington took it, then proceeded to open the jar. "This isn't going to hurt, is it?"

  


"It shouldn't," the Commodore said, kneeling beside her chair. "And if it does, I sincerely apologize."

  


"S'okay," she murmured, bracing herself. He dipped his fingers into the jar, then carefully spread the pale green gel across her arm. Christine sucked her breath in at his touch, though she realized he was being as gentle as he could, or she would be in _excruciating_ pain. Instead, she was only in pain enough to make her whimper, biting her tongue.

  


"I'm sorry," he murmured back. "But this needs to be done. There." Norrington rocked back onto his heels, having rolled her sleeve back down, then looking up at her for a moment. "That should do it."

  


She glanced at the arm warily, then nodded. "Thank you, Commodore."

  


"Please," his voice surprised her, and she looked up to see him standing over her. "Call me Edward."

  


A smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. "Of course, Commodore Edward."

  


He smiled. "No, just Edward, please."

  


"Well, then, Just Edward, please, call me Christine."

  


He actually laughed. "I would be honored. But perhaps, I should call Roberts with the carriage? You should be heading back to the Governor's house." He held out a hand, and helped her to her feet. "Christine...might I have you over again? Perhaps for dinner?"

  


Christine bit her tongue, cursing the fact that her cheeks were really, _really_ quickly turning bright red. "Yes, that would be lovely."

  


He smiled, looking relieved. "Excellent. I will see you again, soon, then."

  


"I'd like that," she answered, honestly. She realized this man had just lost his fiancé, but really, this was getting to be _really_ interesting. "Until next time, then."

  


"Yes, until then." He lifted her hand, brushing his lips lightly across her knuckles. Christine knew that it was merely proper manners that he did that...and _c'mon_, this guy had to be twenty years older than her, but...her insides still felt like they were melting.

  


"Thank you," she whispered honestly, then let him lead her out of the drawing room, and back towards the front doors. Poole, who seemed to have some kind of psychic showing-up-exactly-when-needed power, stood waiting with her hat in hand. Nodding her thanks to the butler, she set it on her head, and headed out the door, towards the carriage. 

  


She climbed the steps, and settled herself on the seat. Looking out the window, she could see Norrington on the steps, and grinned, feeling considerable haven't-we-done-this-all-before _deja vu_, and waved. 

  


As he waved back and the carriage jerked into motion, Christine grinned. Let me have my pirate - she had her own interesting set of possibilities!

  


**************************

  


Blargh. Yes, it was odd. It was sappy. It was weird. It was _Norrington_. *twitches*

  


I must sleep..................Jack, stop poking the computer. It won't bite. 

  


Oh, forgot to mention the mailing list - don't forget to give me email addies if you want to be informed of updates. Apparently authors alerts seem not to be working for my stories.

  


50 reviews, friends!

  
  
  



	4. Jack Writes a Story!

Gomen, friends! I am so very, very, _very_ sorry that this next chapter took so bloody long to come out! November is a bad month. A _bad_ month. Horrible, nasty, should-have-it's-butt-kicked month. And why, you ask? Midterm, quiz, project, exams, essays, papers, term reports, enrichment reports, etc. etc. etc.! *dies*

I hate this…really I do. Work swamps me so much that I _can't do anything_ and it completely drains any creativity I might have floating around my brain!

However…..

Here's the oddest thing. This story _should_ have been updated. See, I asked Jack to look after it, to make sure that things got up on time and stuff…and yet, it's been nearly a month (that long already!) and it has _not_ been updated. I think he may be up to something.

JACK!

What?

Why is this story not updated in a timely and accurate manner like it's supposed to be?

I couldn't get on the noisy box, you were hogging it!

Sure. 

It's true. 

Jack….you have 12 hours to rectify this situation. What are you going to do?

Er…..write the next chapter.

Good. I'm going to go study for my Classics midterm tomorrow morning. Write, Jack!

Fine.

Okay. So this is a story.

Where the Hellcat stopped writing, we were almost gonna attack that Spanish ship. So we came up on them in the dark, and then we put up our flag (it's called the Jolly Roger, which is odd. I don't know who invented that) and jumped them!

It was a really good battle. I killed lots of sailors. And my crew got lots of others. I don't think Hellcat managed to get very many, though I had to save her lots of time cause she got almost killed. She's not very good at fighting.

And then I killed the captain and gave Hellcat a dumb necklace cause she was being all snippy and it was the only way to make her shut up.

She still didn't want to sleep with me.

Then we kept sailing, and sold all our stuff in Tortuga. Then we kept sailing, and went over to India. I like India. When we were there, Hellcat got attacked by the East India trading company. Those bastards branded her. I was not happy. I tried to go after them and kill them, but Hellcat said that she didn't mind, cause it made her a real pirate. Well, who _wouldn't_ want to be a real pirate?

Then the brand got all septic, and we had to get a doctor to look at it. Stupid girl.

She _still_ wouldn't sleep with me.

But I won her over by sheer brilliance and expert planning (I swear, Giselle was really part of an elaborate plan – I meant for that to happen that way all along) and so we got AnaMaria to marry us. It was very nice.

Very, very, _very_ nice.

Hellcat did always say she'd sleep with her husband. 

And we lived happily (very, _very_ happily) ever after.

The End.

That's _it_?!

Yep. I did a good job, didn't i?

Jack…that sucked. 

Sorry about that, readers, Jack apparently doesn't have two literary brain cells to rub together. Never mind…ignore this chapter. I'll start writing some more chapters starting this weekend…..:P

Hey, I thought it was good! They'll review it more than they review _you're_ chapters, I bet!

Psst. Yeah. Right.


	5. Bloody Put me Bloody Down!

*sings* "I'm a pirate born 200 years too late...." (Jimmy Buffett, a Pirate Looks at Forty!)

  


Yay!

  


Chapter four, or five, if you like Jack's....finally. See.....there's this slight problem of school....and it doesn't _like_ me....

  


Whoot! 77 reviews! Now all we need is....hmm......100?

  


And I'm planning on combining these things, if you reviewed on more than one chapter, this time:

  
  


_Alicia the Skull: _There _aren't_ a lot of Norrington fics, which isn't surprising, as he wasn't as sexah as Jack or Will. Meh. Thanks though!

  


_Sweek A.K.: _I know...this chapter gave me a toothache. And I don't know if he really gets _over_ her so much as shoves those feelings aside and moves on. What, you don't think Jack can write as well as me? Even after all that hard work of teaching him _how_ to write? Er...yeah, you're right. :D

  


_Lady J. Riddle: _Ack! Sparks! *runs around screaming* Uh....yeah. :D Ooh...a dashingly handsome Commodore....glad you like!

  


_BubblyFizz03: _*huggles* You did it! You encouraged them to review! Yay! Glad you liked the new Christine bit...she probably would have hit me if I hadn't included her!

  


_I88er-az: _Meh...it was fun to write anyway. I enjoy pairing characters in ways that people go _what_?!, ie.: Norrington and Christine! *cackles* Am an evil genius! And songs corresponding with what you're reading - I have that when I'm writing! Check chapter 18 of Caribbean Secrets and see if you can tell what I was listening to at the time...

  


_Completeopposites: _I haven't read much about Norrington either - the only one, really, was a Norrington/Jack story......o.O 

  


_Sugaricing: _Hey, I don't think he was so bad...just doing his job. And he even let Jack get away! And I think, maybe he was only twenty or so when Liz was about 10/12ish....so he can't be _that_ much older than her. And what color is his hair? Mwa ha! Wait and see! Oh - and AnaMaria says hello, (grunted, actually, but close enough) and Jack says if you can time-travel back to the Caribbean, he'd consider letting you into the crew. I savvy, I write more. :D 

  


_AleniaOceanstar: _I just heard that it doesn't work for some people. I dunno. Glad you like it, though!

  


_Khamul: _It wasn't odd or sappy? Whee! And yes, Norri _does_ rock, no matter what evil writers may say.....*pouts* And I think you're right - Jack's more jealous of the computer than weirded out by it, I think.

  


_BeautyDatk: _*twitch* Good? And yeah, I realize that he _did_ just lose his fiancée, but I think Norri's the kind of guy who tries to hide that he's hurt, and actually does a good job of it.

  


_Andi Horton: _*huggles* Andi! Luv ya! I see him as protective...it works. House...warming....gifts....? *twitches* And I see Ginny showing up on Norrington's doorstep with one, too.....

  


_Lilrujan: _Tea would make me sick to my stomach too....icky. And...what? I am a what? A _genius_?! Wowsers...........

  


_TriGemini: _Thankies! And yes...I think the Commodore deserves someone too. No one should be lonely. Heather will find out, and I plan to have them meet again....in a rather _interesting_ manner. :D Glad you like it...I love hearing from you! Jack worked hard on that chapter. For all of the twenty minutes he spent on it....:P And yes, school can suck. But only one more exam, then sweet, sweet freedom! Until next year. Blargh.

  


_Morph: _*huggles* Awww.....yay! Yeah...attempts to tie the two stories together in a coherent manner....meh. Thanks! Jack is cute, isn't he? Hope this was fast enough!

  


_Mistress Natalia: _I try! I think Norrington can be an interesting character too, if one bothers to try and write him as such. And will they be hooking up? Mwa ha ha....for me to write and you to find out!

  


_Thunderfoot: _Well, the Classics essay is done and handed in....now I have an english essay, an anthropology midterm, a computers quiz, a anthro assignment, and a history essay worth 25% of my final mark to worry about now. Blargh. I am, indeed, insane. Yeah, major bruising is not fun...but it gives a reason for Norri to be all protective! (And, by the way, Gillette _is_ a prat - he's the "well, aren't we gonna go get him?" guy, after all!) And, hey, wait...it's _summer_ there?! Lucky....man, today was warm at 10 degrees celcius.....

  


_Ecila: _Yeppers! Norrington! Makes for a challenging write, and a somewhat interesting read, then! Ooh...and you like my writing better than Jack's? Yay!

  


_Brem Nakada: _Love _does_ seem to be everywhere in the air, doesn't it...? Hmm.... Well, must keep writing so he grows....yay! Jack likes your proposition. He says he'll take the coconut rum in exchange for never having to follow my orders to update again. Why do I think he's pulled another fast one on me? ;)

  


_Pirate-Jazzy: _We're not going to mention that he's that much older....okay, so we are, but we won't think of that, will we? :D Glad Norrie's growing on you!

  


_Panny Savage: _Glad you like it! I am not, unfortunately, British. I am Canadian, which is _technically_ still a British colony, so I suppose that might account for it? I'm not certain. Glad you're impressed!

  


_Christé: _Ah yes, essays. Done for the year, whoot! Jack is very good at forgetting about anyone but himself, and that what he is currently concerned with at the moment. That was Hellcat. :P And thank ye, lass, for yer gracious singing..........scary....I _could_ legally drink now......O.o

  


_Tabby Kitten: _You mention fanfics in your reviews, I read them. Now I keep running around calling Will my bitch......thankies!

  


_Huntress16: _Well, I'm glad I managed to pull it off, anyway! Whoo.....no more worries that people will think I'm pulling a Sue....and Jack wanted to write that. So Jack wrote it.

  


_Tygrus-2000: _Norrington deserves some happiness. After all, he _did_ let Jack go in the end. We loves him now!

  


_Cynikalbitch: _As do I, dear. As do I.

  


_Lyssa2: _*huggles* What Jack doesn't get better reviews? That's going to crush his poor little heart, it is...

  


_Calex: _Jack _did_ manage to get a disturbingly large number of reviews, but not more than me. Yet. :P And I agree....he should be kept far, _far_ away from technology. Yes. Branded. Coming soon in a chapter near you!

  


_Vagrant Candy: _It made _some_ sense.....silly Jack. :D

  


_Star4: _I'm so happy that you liked it! *huggles* And I _think_ I'm alive. Maybe. Kinda. Sorta. Possibly. Blargh.

  


_JenJen: _Literary genius is a hard thing to pass on, I've been told. *huggles* That's it, Jack, yer going _canelling_!!

  


_Nameless_ladybug: _Yeppers. Johnny, the sexiest man alive. *droooool* Eyeliner..... Spoilers, yes. How they explain to be spoilers......nope. Still fun!

  


_Tabby Kitten: _He didn't actually get any flames, surprisingly. I think all reviewers were far too mesmerized with the eyeliner......

  
  


And yes, I own nothing. Stop asking.

  
  


********************

  
  


Night was rapidly descending. 

  


My grip tightened on the dagger in hand, crouched behind the rails on the quarter-deck. Jack was only feet away, hands on the wheel, a manic grin on his face. The rest of the crew was scattered across the deck and the rigging, weapons at the ready, grim smiles firmly in place. Little more than the cannons shot length away sailed the massive _Alameda_*, sails at full breadth to catch the wind, and by now their crew _had_ to have spotted us. A black sailed ship was suspicious enough, even if we _were_ flying the Spanish colors.

  


The plan was relatively simple, all things considered. Sail up beside them, rake their side with a single pass of the cannons, then board and take the crew prisoner. If a crew member refused to be taken prisoner and insisted on fighting for something like their honor, kill them. Just _do_ try not to kill the captain - Jack wanted to talk to him. 

  


The theory was that, the other ship being a _merchant_ vessel, wasn't likely to have many soldiers or eager fighters aboard. Granted, the crew-members were sure to put up a considerable fight at first, but most of them valued their lives over the meager pay the captain would offer. 

  


That, and we had reputation going for us.

  


I could see the crew on the _Alameda_ moving around, occasionally turning to point at us, faces still indistinct. Smiling grimly, I watched them, measuring entrances and escape routes with my eyes. I wasn't really all that good at this - after all, I had never raided a ship before. But that wasn't the point. The point was that I was going to be involved in a raid _now_, and that was what mattered.

  


"And just _what_ do ye think yer doing there, luv?"

  


I glanced up at Jack's voice, to see him lazily leaning on the wheel, watching me with one eyebrow arched. I rocked back on my heels, and shot him a cool look. "Waiting, as the rest of the crew is. Yourself?"

  


He snorted. "And just _what_ do ye propose yer waiting for?"

  


I rolled my eyes. "Captain, with all due respect, there's a ship _right there_. We are going to loot it, as per _your_ orders, I believe? I don't know what _your_ waiting for, but I'm waiting for the _tea party_ you and their captain are going be holding," I shot back sarcastically.

  


Jack smirked, and dropped into a crouch beside the wheel, hand still on the vanes. "And how were ye proposing to be holding the tea cup with yer hand all done up in bandages like that?"

  


"I'm become rather ambidextrous, thank you," I said cooly. "I do think I'll manage."

  


"Of course ye will, luv," he smirked, standing again. "Locked in my cabin."

  


"Excuse me?"

  


"Ye heard me," he said, beginning to hum a tune under his breath. "Ye'll be quite welcome to use yer remarkable ambidous....ambiderm...ambidrox....what'd ye call it again?"

  


"Ambidextrous," I growled.

  


"Right, right, that. So ye'll be quite welcome to use it when yer locked away in my cabin. I'm sure it will benefit ye greatly....practicing....opening rum bottles, or something." He grinned, waving a hand about in what he obviously thought was a dramatic, dashing pose. I was less than impressed.

  


"And just _what_ makes you think I'm going to _let_ you lock me in your cabin, _captain_?!" I demanded, glaring. "And just why in all of all that's sacred _would_ you?"

  


Resting an elbow on the wheel, he half turned, cocking his head to look at me. "In case ye haven't noticed, my little Hellcat, yer a....well....y'know....a _woman_. Or something likes that, as I haven't exactly had opportunity to determine this for myself." He paused for a long moment, staring off into space, before shaking his head, and looking back at me. "And so, ye see, I can't just have ye wandering about deck while we're raiding."

  


I spluttered. "Are you suggesting that I can't fight because I'm _female_?!"

  


He paused. "Aye, that'd be about it."

  


Not even caring that someone on the other ship might see, or even hear me, I stood up, fists clenched at my sides, one hand holding a dagger, the other wrapped in long cloth strips. "I am _not_ some weak little shrinking violet, Jack! I can fight just as well as anyone if need be! Or did you conveniently _not_ notice that in that cave?!"

  


He raised an eyebrow. "As _I_ recall, in that cave ye managed to slit yer own wrist and end up laying on the ground, bleeding yer lifeblood out so as _I_ had to rescue ye. Or have ye conveniently forgotten that?"

  


I raised a hand to point a shaking finger at him. "_That_ is something else entirely, Jack, and you know it!"

  


"Tis but a matter of opinion, really," he shrugged, before rounding the wheel, hand still on it, to call down to the deck, "Oi, AnaMaria! A moment?"

  


The African woman hurried up the steps, a no-nonsense business like manner in her stride. "Aye, captain?"

  


"Keep a watch on the helm for me for a moment, won't ye? Seems the Hellcat doesn't want to cooperate."

  


"Hey!" I yelped, glaring at them both. "I am _not_ going to just stand here, and...."

  


"Aye," AnaMaria grinned, interrupting me. Calmly, she took the helm, and nodded at Jack. "We'll be upon them soon, Cap'n."

  


"That we will," Jack nodded. "And this won't take me but a moment."

  


"Hey!" I aimed the dagger I still held at him, though not all that convincingly. I wasn't going to stab _Jack. _"I said, I'm _not_ going to..."

  


"Yes, yes, I heard," Jack laughed, his hand snaking forward with deceptive speed to grab my wrist. "Now, put that thing away, that's a good girl..."

  


Scowling, I kept my grip on the knife. Jack sighed, then twisted my wrist fast and sharp, and I let out a yelp of pain, my fingers releasing the blade. "That's more like it," he grinned, and before I could protest, he reached down, swung me over his shoulder, and was already descending the stairs before I could work up any kind of reaction.

  


"Bloody hell!" I bellowed, pounding my fists on his back. "Bloody let me bloody go!"

  


He just laughed, and from around the deck, I could hear the sniggers of the crew members. This did _nothing_ to improve my mood.

  


"I...said..._bloody...let...me...bloody....go!"_ I pounded on his back, and kicked as hard and desperately as I could. "I will _not_ be treated like a little girl! Put me down this _instant_, Jack, or I'll..."

  


What I was going to do I never got the chance to tell him, as quite abruptly, he _did_ put me down. I hadn't noticed that we'd already entered his cabin, what with having my eyes closed, and kicking and screaming. He had chosen to drop me with a thump on his bed, and I bounced once, from the force of gravity on me, dropping off his shoulder. 

  


"Hey!" I yelped - again. I seemed to have lost my rather large repertoire of words to yell at him. "What do you bloody think you're doing?!"

  


"Since you seem so _very_ determined not to listen to me," Jack smirked grimly, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. "Guess I'll just have to tie you to my bed." 

  


As I spluttered out in indignation, he calmly ignored me, and lashed my wrists above my head to the rough headboard. "There we are," he nodded, grinning at my glowering expression. "I'm the captain, savvy? And we listen to our captain, don't we, Hellcat?"

  


"Go to hell," I snapped, glaring at him. 

  


"Later, luv," he leaned down to lightly press his lips against mine. "In the meantime, you sit tight, hear? I expect you to still be here, waiting for me when all this is over."

  


Grinning, he straightened, and left the cabin. 

  


The second the door shut, I started swearing a blue streak, snapping off every curse I could remember and a few I made up especially for the occasion, condemning Jack to every possible imaginable horrible fate. Once I had exhausted my supply and began to repeat curses, I twisted on the bed, glaring up at my wrists, bound together, then tied to the headboard. "Damn you," I muttered, as I began twisting my hands, trying to worm my way out of the ropes.

  


I was just starting to make some progress on the left hand when there was a thunderous crash, and a slight tremor shook the bed under me, barely enough to be felt. "We're firing the long nines," I muttered, knowing that if we had been _hit_, that tremor would have been a lot more noticeable. 

  


Yanking on the rope, I bit my lip as it cut into my hand, but one further yank pulled my left hand out finally. Silently cheering, I ignored the continuing and then ceasing of the cannon fire as I wrestled to get my right hand out. Had I noticed, I probably would have realized that the cessation of firing meant that we had boarded the other ship.

  


Instead, I just yanked my hand out finally, and leaping up, raced for the door. Jack had locked it from the _inside_, which seemed like an odd thing to do if he was trying to lock me in. A simple twist of the key solved that problem, and I threw the door open, darting out - and straight into the middle of a heated battle.

  


I yelped, drawing back. Sword rang on sword, gunshots ricocheted around between the sails, shouts of wounded, dying and angry men fired the air. 

  


This was probably not the best thing to walk into, unarmed, I decided, watching for an opening to dart _back_ into the captain's quarters.

  


That, however, seemed not to be what was going to happen.

  


"Ho, what have we here?" A rough voice demanded, and I spun, wide-eyed, to find myself staring at a massive man with a wicked looking sword. "Captain's strumpet, are we? Well, we'll deal with ye."

  


He raised that massive sword, and as it swung down towards me, I threw my arms over my head, and screamed.

  


"_JACK!?!_" 

  
  


*****************

  
  


Well.....that was fun, wasn't it? :D

  


Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long *ducks rotten fruit* but don't forget to give me your email for the mailing list!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


*Whee! Footnote! Erm, yes. _Alameda_: Spanish girl's name, means promenade


	6. Don't kill me!

*dances across the screen* Whoot! Am baaaaack!

  


Well, we don't have 100 reviews yet, Jack.

  


Jack: *cries*

  


There, there, it's alright. I'm sure it's just because the mailing list went wonky and wouldn't send.

  


Jack: Damn Hotmail!

  


Don't say that too loud, Jack....Microsoft is _everywhere_....

  
  


_Ecila: _Jack _does_ like trying to protect her, doesn't he? Glad you thought it was funny!

  


_Mistress Natalia: _But I _like_ cliff-hangers.....:D Here we go!

  


_HyperCaz: _Well, we didn't get 100, but that's okay. It's still good!

  


_ChildlikeEmpress: _That's a good point. Just how cranky _would _Jack be? Glad you like!

  


_Sugaricing: _You have your _own_ time machine?! I am very jealous now....:( And I don't know what AnaMaria's last name is. I never asked her. Hmm....

  


_Brem Nakada: _roflmao.........:D School is pretty much over now. Only one exam (on the 11th, and it's computers...._) And I'm _not_ getting the DVD yet *ducks for cover* only because I'm waiting until _after _Christmas. (Just in case. ^_~)

  


_Calex: _Yes, Hellcat _does_ seem to need some help....:D Hey.....so it's really you! *huggles* And here I thought I was just missing you....

  


_Sweet A.K.: _Jack's insulted that you didn't want another chapter written by him. :D And no puppy-dog-eyes! I can't resist puppy-dog-eyes! Gah! Resistence.....fading.....

  


_Calendar: _Jack is sweet, isn't he? I luff him......*huggles*

  


_TriGemini: _Tis also my favourite scene! And I totally agree. I think the _entire _reason Jack keeps acting like that is that he likes getting her ticked off...more energetic or something, I dunno....^_^"

  


_morph: _Yay! You like! *huggles* 

  


_Thunderfoot: _I never even thought of that! It _is_ an awful lot like the Mummy! Of course, it seems a lot of movies like doing that....most girls don't start swearing a blue streak, though.....:D And I just think Jack's being protective. I don't _agree_ with him, but it's a nice sentiment all the same. :D You're all done till _March_?! Gah....I'm done until January, but then I won't be done until April.....:'(

  


_BubblyFizz03: _What....don't you like cliffhangers? :D And it is humourous?! YAY! *huggles* But no phoning Jack, kay? He gets evil ideas when he writes.....O.o

  


_~KKR~: _I liked Jack's story too, even if he didn't embellish very much....:D And stop mocking me with the movie.....:'(

  


_VagrantCandy: _Glad you like! And I write evil, evil cliffhangers because they're fun, because I'm good at them, and because it keeps you reading!

  


_Lady J. Riddle: _Cliffhanger fun! Elfwood _is_ great, but I agree, those tickets drive me nuts....grr. And don't worry, Heather will be back soon!

  


_Andi Horton: _Dangerous, isn't it? Good point on housewarming gifts - I suspect _someone_ will have to teach me the use of a knife - no more getting tied to beds, no siree! :D

  


_JackOnTop: _I like too. And that _certainly_ is an interesting name! ;)

  


_Lenne Hime: _Oooh....but I'm so _good_ at endings like that! Actually, the epilogue was there because I wasn't sure if I was going to write _this _story or not. So I had to wrap Caribbean Secrets up somehow, and that worked nicely. Of course, the epilogue takes place about 20 years later, and this story takes place _immediately_ where the last chapter of Caribbean Secrets left off, so...yeah. I dunno. And you did get to be 100th reviewer! Congrats!

  


_Usagi-chanchan: _Sorry about the long wait, I really need to get my rear in gear with that...._ 

  


_Jupiter's Light: _Glad you like!

  


_Penny Savage: _I know, it _is_ so very ironic! She's all like "I can fight for myself!" and what happens? Exactly. Tsk tsk. Hope this chapter was worth the wait! 

  
  


Let's see? I don't even own the movie yet, what are the chances I actually own the _rights_ to the movie? 

  
  


***********

  
  


There was sharp, whistling hiss as the sword sliced through the air. With clean and deadly accuracy, the blade descended, cutting into flesh, severing muscles and tendons, fragile bones snapping under the force of the swing.

  


Head severed from neck, body hovering as it had stood a moment before, before falling heavily to the ground, no longer a living entity, but a mass of dead and dying cells. The head itself rolled away, eyes wide and staring, as though to say 'why me', and the sword point gently touched the ground and the spreading pool of blood, silent. 

  


"Well. That was disgusting."

  


The silence was broken, and the sword wielder turned, straitening bent shoulders, tossing a bemused look at the speaker, who stood a little behind him, face pulled in an expression of disgust.

  


"Good morning," he said cheerfully, bending smoothly to scoop the body up. "Lovely morning, isn't it?"

  


"Get that thing _away_ from me," the other grimaced, backing away, nose wrinkled up. "Will, that's _disgusting_!"

  


He laughed. "Why, Miss Christine, 'tis only a chicken! Elizabeth would like chicken for dinner!"

  


Christine winced, turning away from the limp, feathered body. "Good heavens, though, Will. Whatever possessed you to take its head off with a _sword_?"

  


Will smiled quite mischievously. "Perhaps you'd like to assist me in plucking Elizabeth's dinner, Christine?"

  


Christine shuddered. "Thank you, _no_. I think I'll leave that task to Mama Parker and her brood."

  


Will laughed again, bending to pick up a rough burlap sack, into which he deposited the chicken. "I doubt Estrella and Sarah would appreciate being called a 'brood'." Tossing the bag lightly over his shoulder, he shot the girl a questioning look. "What brings you outside this morning in any case, Christine?"

  


Christine frowned, twisting a section of her hair in a curl around her finger. "There's nothing to do."

  


Will looked vaguely amused. "And so you wander about the farmyard with your hair undone, without a hat, without even a parasol, completely unaccompanied?"

  


"Yes." She shot the elder an odd look. "Why? Shouldn't I be?"

  


He just shook his head. "It's not my place to say that you can't act as a common girl if that's what you wish." 

  


"Oh, _fine_," she sighed, pulling a face. "I'll go indoors, and let Sarah bind me up in a corset, pomade my hair until I may as well be wearing the Commodore's wig, and I shall sit in the drawing room, reading Shakespeare and waiting for an eligible bachelor to arrive and ask for my hand in marriage in an attempt to get at my family money." She sniffed. "And then, of course, have him run off when he discovers that my family is dead, and that they left nothing behind for me. I'm certain I shall be a massive hit among the young men of the town."

  


Will looked like he was fighting to keep a straight face. "Yes, well, there is that."

  


Swinging her arms aimlessly beside her, Christine seemed quite content, walking in the warm morning sun, until she looked up, and let out a horrified...squeak. Ducking behind Will, she desperately tried to look like she wasn't there.

  


"Whatever has gotten _into_ you?" Will asked, turning his head to look at her. "Whatever is the matter?"

  


She motioned wildly for him to be quiet, but it was too late. 

  


"Christine!" A voice called, sounding far too happy, and Christine winced before stepping out from behind Will. 

  


Desperately, she tried to push her tangled, loose hair into a knot on the back of her head before the Commodore made it over to them. "Morning, Edward," she smiled, trying to hold one hand up to keep her hair up, while having the other free, which he took and kissed lightly.

  


"Lovely morning, isn't it?" He smiled, then his eyes flicked over to Will, and they hardened, just a little. And it wasn't a _hardness_, so much as hurt and betrayal - which weren't really aimed at, but triggered by, him - that surfaced. "Morning, Mr. Turner."

  


"Good morning, Commodore," Will inclined his head, graciously stepping aside. "I'm expected inside, sir. If you'll excuse me..."

  


Norrington nodded once, and Will beat a hasty retreat. 

  


Left on her own with the Commodore, Christine blushed, still trying to hold her hair into some semblance of a proper hairdo. Realizing that they still stood in the center of the barnyard, where chickens (those not of the newly headless variety) scurried, and servants were still walking about, working, she flushed a little deeper, and stammered, "Perhaps, you might...want to sit in the shade?"

  


"Excellent idea," he nodded, and led the way around the corner of the house, into the 'back yard', skirting the terrace to settle on a bench under a widely spreading tree. Christine joined him, setting one hand awkwardly in her lap. "Why...may I ask why you're holding your hand to your head?" Norrington asked, frowning slightly.

  


"Oh!" Immediately self-conscious again, she dropped her hand, blonde curls cascading down around her shoulders. "I didn't set my hair this morning, and..." she trailed off, face red. "I'm sorry. I must sound so ridiculous."

  


"Not at all," he soothed, leaning forward to set a hand on hers. "You look positively lovely with your hair down."

  


"Thank you," she blushed even deeper red, glancing away. "So, Edward...what brings you here this early in the morning?" 

  


"The Governor and I had some things to discuss," he said lightly, waving a hand as though it was unimportant. "And yourself? What brings you out and wandering in the sun by yourself?"

  


Christine fidgeted. "I was...bored," she admitted. "There's only so many times you can read Shakespeare's sonnets. This last month has made me so...._restless_, and this past week in Port Royal hasn't done anything to help that."

  


"Yes." Norrington paused a moment, then laid a gentle hand on her forearm. "You will you be leaving Port Royal, then? I imagine you'll be most anxious to be getting back home."

  


Christine blinked. "I hadn't...planned on it, actually. There's nothing there for me to go back to - my grandfather was lost to the sea, you'll remember? He was the only living family I had - other than my...ah..._sister_, that is."

  


Norrington looked rather startled by this admission. "But...will you not be wanting to settle your affairs back home?"

  


"What is there to settle?" She shrugged, then shot the Commodore a suspicious look. "Why, Edward, may I ask, are you so concerned?"

  


"Well..." he hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat. "You see, we're going to be heading out to sea, day after next. To hunt down Sparrow, of course, you realize, it's my duty."

  


Christine sighed, and nodded. "Of course. It'd be your head if you didn't at least give chase."

  


He nodded, looking pleased that she understood where he was coming from. "Exactly. Now, we have reason to believe that, with your sister aboard, Sparrow and his crew may sail for St. George. That in mind, I have informed the captain of the Dauntless that we, also, will be making way for St. George. Should Sparrow _not_ be there, we may, at the very least, be able to settle your affairs. That is why, miss Christine, I have come to ask if you will accompany us on this voyage."

  


Christine could only blink. "Come with you? Sailing on the Dauntless, into battle with a notorious pirate?"

  


"Yes, well, that pirate _does_ have your sister aboard, and is unlikely, therefore, to harm you." He shot her a small smile. "You _did _say that Port Royal was a bore."

  


"I did, didn't I?" Christine couldn't help but grin. "When do we set sail?" 

  
  


************

  
  


Meep. 

  
  


*hides under her desk*

  
  



	7. Passages

Yes, the world is ending. 

I updated. 

Again, I say, the world is ending.

And ain't it fun?

Awww....we haven't got 125 reviews yet. But we're really really really really close! ONE MORE, FOLKS!

_HyperCaz: _I _do_ have the oddest timing, don't I? Glad you like!

_Sweet A.K.: _I know, it was _so_ evil, but that's exactly why I did it! And I don't think Jack's _too_ insulted, so much as he's given his daily dose of rum and a slap on the rear (he doesn't like the slaps to his face, for some reason) and he's happy. Glad you like, though!

_Lady J. Riddle: _*huggles* More is on the way!

_Calex: _Oooh....cookies! *huggles* And I get to be a star? Gosh, _me_?! Why, thank you! So you _did_ like the beginning? Yay! I was kinda worried about that (y'know, reviewers trying to flay me alive for it, or something) but everyone seems to have liked....ah! I _am_ smart after all! And yes, it was Hello by Evanescence. I _love_ that song. *huggles again!* And I don't have the DVD, but I _have_ seen it, and yes, his name is James. Grr.

_Sugaricing: _I meeped because I was afraid sword-wielding reviewers would be out for _my_ head? And I enjoyed writing it, so that's great! And Edward _does _seem sort of school-boy-ish, doesn't he?

_Brem Nakada: _I'm sorry I've scared you, Brem, really, I am! Although yes, Will is _very_ whipped! Darn seventeen year old actresses! They shouldn't be allowed to look that good! And Norrington _does_ begin to grow on you, doesn't he? I'm now able to write these chapters with him in it without feeling like gagging!

_VagrantCandy: _Success! I managed to make my readers nervous! Yay! *huggles* Glad you like!

_Nameless Bulldog: _And I _cannot_ impress on you how amazing your review made me feel! You have inspired me to actually work on this story! *huggles* 

_JackOnTop: _What _does_ that name mean, then, cause you _realize_ what it sounds like, right....? Thanks so much!

_TriGemini: _*huggles* Glad you liked it, even if I did manage to worry you a little there... And really, Norrington _can_ be a good guy, can't he? And St. George? Mwa ha! 

_Star4: _I hope the reintroduction of Jack to the story can make up for the lack of pirates in that last chapter! And I'll see what I can do about writing longer chapters.....

_Thunderfoot: _I know, but evil is so much FUN! And yes, I believe you may very well be right - Will seems bored as well! And it was _40.5 _degrees?! It was _-35_ here today! I wanna move to Australia.....*pout* Although yes, those _dresses_...*shudder* What's this about cliffs? *gets the hint* Ooooh.....

_Jupiter's Light: _Here you go, adventure and excitement!

_Penny Savage:_ Yeah, I'm sorry it was such a short chapter....._ This one should be longer to make up for it a little, though! And I know, the name.....*sighs* The DVD wasn't out yet when I wrote that, so it's an AU, or something.......

_Andi Horton: _Ahh! Andi! *huggles* Your fic rox my sox. So there. It rocks so much!

_BubblyFizz03: _Yay Jack/Heatherness! Lots of that in this chapter, so you should be happy! Yay! And I really don't think I want to let Jack write again....that was _scary_ last time....

_Lenne Hime: _I'm sorry it took so long! But I'm out from under the desk, and I wrote the next chapter! Yay! 100!

_Morph: _Glad you like....sorry it took so long.....*wince*

_JenJen: _*sigh* Parsons makes a reappearance as well, I promise! And thanks for telling me not to rush perfection....you made me wait MONTHS to update! Lol.....

_Christé: _*cries in the corner* I'M SORRY!

_Laura N.: _Yay! New reader! Glad you like it!

_Mogjitsu: _Glad you like. And for sure, more Jack/Heather!

_Queen of the Caribbean: _Hey, thanks! Glad to hear that people like it, anyways. And yeah, I'm not so busy as I'm just a lazy bum......:P I need to get my rear in gear, re-collar my muse and knuckle down....lol....glad you like!

I have a note to resolve, now. In the deleted scenes of the movie, you may have noticed that Norrington's name is actually _James_. _However_, please keep in mind - this is a _deleted_ scene. Therefore...James as his name is also deleted. So there. His name is Edward.

While we're discussing this resolving of notes, I have a note to resolve. How's this - I wrote a story. I used characters that I do not own. I made no money for it. So you don't sue me.

Kay?

********

I cowered behind my arms, throwing my bandaged arm up first - it was _already _injured, if worse came to worse. The sword descending towards me whistled through the air, and I flinched, anticipating the all-too-familiar strike of sword on my arm. 

It didn't arrive, however, and slowly, I opened one eye. 

The brute still stood over me, arms raised, sword in hand, but he had stopped mid-swing, a strange expression fighting its way across his face. He opened his mouth, as though to say something, but instead, blood bubbled its way past his lips, and he began to cough. I flinched as his blood splattered across my arms, a few droplets hitting my face. And then he began to fall forward, and I jumped back, managing to _just_ get out of his way before he fell with a loud and heavy thump to the wooden deck.

I took a couple awkward steps back, then let out a yelp as someone grabbed my arm. I tried to pull away from them, but my captor just yanked me towards them, and a second later, I found my back crushed against Jack's chest as he backed away from yet another attacking sailor, dragging me with him.

"Did I or did I _not_ lock you in my cabin?" Jack growled.

"Ah, yes?" I winced as Jack struck out at another sword slashing man. "But I figured that it couldn't be all that safe, tied to - yeek! - a bed when there's the possibility of being - yah! - _attacked_!" 

"It's a hell of a lot safer than out here," he pointed out, and that would be why, a moment later, I found myself being shoved unceremoniously back onto Jack's bed. "You." he pointed at me sternly, pausing at the door. "_Stay_."

I stayed.

*******

"To the victorious go the spoils, luv!" Jack crowed, and I looked up as his door crashed open, and he staggered in, three or four rum bottles under one arm, and what looked like enough fabric to refit the sails under the other. Laughing, he swung into the room, dumping his load of bottles carefully on the table, then threw the other bundle at me.

"What's this?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Spoils for the victorious!" he grinned. 

"Riiiight," I said sarcastically, then grabbed the pile of dark red material, shaking it out. It was a dress. Glancing up at the smugly grinning Jack, I couldn't help it. He deserved it. "Why, Jack, it's perfectly lovely!"

"I know," he grinned. "Isn't it?"

"Yes indeed, it is," I agreed. "You'll look positively stunning in it, Jack."

Silence.

For a moment, the pirate captain made no response, then a grin fought it's way across his face, and laughter bubbled up. He didn't answer me for a minute, bracing himself against the table as he began roaring with laughter. His shoulders shook as he turned away, as he attempted, unsuccessfully, to stem the tide. At last, Jack turned back, took the three steps over to the bed, and scooped the fabric up into his own arms. With a little flick of the wrist, the dress hung loosely in his hands, and he held it up to his chest. 

"Aye, I would, wouldn't I?" He smirked. "At least _I_ have the figure for it."

"Oh, no you don't," I grinned, fighting to look serious. "You are _not_ getting me riled up just so I'll agree to put that thing on. Put it on yourself."

Silence greeted my retort for a moment, until an entirely too devious look crossed my captain's face. 

The next thing I knew, I was pinned to the bed, Jack straddling my legs, hands held to the bed above my head with one hand with his other was calmly undoing the buttons on my vest.

"The _hell_?! Jack! What do you bloody think you're _doing_?!"

He grinned, finishing the buttons and tugging on the dark green fabric in an attempt to pull it off, despite the fact that I was quite clearly lying on it. "Putting the dress on myself. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Bloody hell, Jack!" I tried to twist away, but just as before, it wasn't working all that well. Instead, all my twisting and bucking merely gave Jack the leverage he needed to finally yank the vest off, tossing it carelessly across the room. Still grinning like a banshee, he began to unbutton my shirt, humming an odd little tune under his breath as he did. Soon he'd gotten the first four undone, and was calmly moving to unbutton the last two when I finally realized that I _could_ move my legs somewhat. "Oh, no, you _don't_!" I yelped as I yanked my knees forward, hitting him soundly in the lower back.

Startled, Jack dropped him hands off my arms, which allowed me to sit up, and shove him forward so that he fell off me, and hit the floor with a thump. "Bloody _hell_," I snapped, hastily re-buttoning my shirt. 

Jack, meanwhile, hadn't bothered to get up from where he'd fallen. Instead, he'd sprawled himself out on the floor, spreadeagled, laughing. "If you could only _see_ yourself, luv!" he chortled. "You'd have done it too, just to see your face!"

"Yes, yes, very funny," I snapped, marching across the room to grab my vest. Yanking it on, I glared down at him for a moment, before grabbing one of the bottles off the table and wrestling with the cork. Eventually, I just used my teeth to pry the small wooden stopper out, then heaved a sigh and leaned against the table, taking a swig of the amber liquid. "I hate you, Sparrow."

"Awwww...and after I saved yer life and everything?" Jack asked, and I turned to see that he'd rolled over onto his stomach, chin resting on the floor as he pouted. 

"Yes." Turning away again, I concentrated on my bottle, and ignored the slight scuffling sounds that was Jack pushing himself to his feet. "Why would I want to wear that ridiculous dress _anyway_?"

"Because ye'd look good in it?" Jack brushed past me to seize upon another of the bottles. "I thought you ladies _like_ wearing dresses."

I almost snapped back that girls hardly ever wear skirts these days anymore _anyways_, but quickly bit my tongue when I realized how stupid that would have been. _Whoops, we ain't in Kansas anymore, Toto. _And after all, in _this_ day and age, women _did_ wear skirts all the time. Sure, AnaMaria didn't, but as I recalled it, she was the only one I could think of. Everyone else wore dresses, except of course, in that short stint where Elizabeth wore a uniform on the_ Dauntless_, but she'd been quick enough to head back to skirts, first chance she got. So I settled for a response of, "Well, _I_ don't. I hate them."

"Oh." Jack was silent for a minute, and I turned to face him. He'd crossed the room to lean against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, arms crossed, bottle dangling almost lazily from his fingers. "Well. That back-fired then, didn't it?"

"Say what?" I asked, eyebrows arching. 

One hand strayed upward to scratch thoughtfully at his goatee. "The dress was _supposed _to be a, how shall I put it...peace offering?"

Lips quirking into a smirk, I glanced over at the pile of fabric. "Well. That didn't work."

"No. It didn't." Jack heaved a heavy sigh, then pushed himself off the wall, reaching into his pocket. "Really hoped I wouldn't have to do this..."

As I watched him warily, he began circling the room, very deliberately clicking his heels off the floor as he did. He paused for a moment behind, and I very nearly jumped when his arms slid around my neck, just as I was about to snap at him, he pulled back, fiddling with something at the base of my neck, then stepped back. 

"See?" He beamed when I spun to face him. "Better, right?"

That was when I realized there was a slight weight around my neck, and suspiciously, I dropped my eyes. A gold chain hung around my neck, a gold pendant hanging ponderously, just dipping into the collar of my shirt. Lifting a hand to it, I held the pendant to my eyes, examining it. 

It was a smooth circle, a gently decorated border around the edge, and carved in the middle was a grinning deaths-head, swords crossed behind it. With a slight chill, I was reminded of a familiar gold piece found in a certain stone chest on a certain un-find-able island. The back was smooth, except that _someone_ (and I didn't have to wonder too hard to think of who it may have been) had attacked it with something sharp, scratching the word 'Sparrows' into it. 

"'Sparrow's?'" I read aloud, smirking. "Jack....you really _are_ hopeless, aren't you?"

"Am I forgiven?" He asked, giving me the cutest little smile ever. "Cause y'know, I had to save _you_, and you didn't even say _thank you_..."

I sighed, before taking another firm swig of the bottle, choking down the fire in my throat. "_Fine_, Jack. You win."

*****

"Ahh...sorry, Francis, didn't see you there." 

Christine flushed, stepping back. Parsons looked up from where he had settled on the edge of the deck, leaning on the railing, and gave her a small, sad smile. "Not at all, Miss Christine. I was only pausing for dinner." To prove his point, he lifted the almost empty plate he held. "I'll be out of your way in a moment."

"Oh, it's cool," Christine laughed, waving a hand. Spotting his confused expression, she corrected, "That is, you don't have to do that. I can find another spot to read." Smiling, she waved her copy of Shakespeare's sonnets lightly. 

"If you're sure..." he frowned, looking worried. 

"Certainly." Smiling, Christine turned. "Have a pleasant evening, Francis."

"The same to you, Miss Christine." Francis answered, then she crossed the deck, settling herself onto a crate. 

Leaning back against the railing, Christine spared a glance up at the near to setting sun, then cracked her book open, returning to her spot. She wasn't much of a poetry reader, much less Shakespeare, but there wasn't exactly a lot to _do_ on this ship. 

"Evening," a soft voice said, and Christine turned to see the Commodore, hands draped behind his back, smiling at her. 

"Evening," she returned with a smile, scooting over on her impromptu bench. "Will you have a seat?"

"Afraid I haven't the time at the moment," he shook his head. "Though I'd be delighted if you would join me this evening for tea?"

"I would love to," she smiled, nodding. "Until then?"

"Of course." Sweeping a little bow, he doffed his hat. "I will send one of my men to retrieve you."

"Certainly." Grinning, Christine bit her lip as Norrington crossed the deck. Trying to fight the grin that was trying to work its way onto her lips, she hid behind her sonnets book, softly reading aloud, "_Not marble, nor the gilded monuments of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme; but you shall shine more bright in these conténts than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time."_

Looking up, and considering the fact that she had been thrown several hundred years back in time, Christine had to laugh. "Will, you have _no_ idea."

****

"He actually conned you into wearing it?" AnaMaria asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I _don't_ want to talk about it," I muttered, crossing my arms over my overly-tightly bound chest. "I can't believe he made me wear the _corset_."

AnaMaria looked like she was fighting down a bout of laughter. "Well, it is a _lovely_ dress. Very fine."

I frowned, fingering the fine red silk. "Aye, it _is_. Jack probably had to rob some poor woman's Hope Chest to get it. And why are all women so bloody _skinny_?!"

"Because it makes it easier for us to wrap our arms around you, luv," a voice answered, followed immediately by Jack's arms wrapping smoothly around my waist. "You know, in Singapore, they bind the women's corsets _so_ tight, that - "

"I grew _up_ in Singapore, Jack," I lied easily, to cut an undoubtedly questionable story off. Well hey, according to popular mythology, Captain Morgan _did_ keep several women in Singapore. It would make some certain sense that his daughter would have grown up there, right? 

"Did you?" Jack seemed surprised. "So you could speak their langauage?"

"Ah...." I tried to think quick. "No. I only spoke English to my teachers, and my mother."

"Oh..." AnaMaria was biting her lip to fight down a grin, and Jack was pouting. "You don't even know how to ask for rum?"

I fought down a snort of laughter. "No. Baka," I added, unable to resist. So it was Japanese, not....Singaporean? I still got to call him an idiot in different languages. "So...are we going into the town, or not?"

Jack leaned down, resting his chin on my shoulder as he stared out at the slow beginnings of a Tortugan morning bustle. "We are indeed. Are you _certain_ you want to come, luv?"

Reaching down, I patted the hands laced over my stomach. "I'll stick close to you, Jack. I trust you to keep my honor intact. Well....I trust you _slightly_ more than I trust the men of Tortuga."

Grinning, Jack stood, sliding one of his arms off my waist, keeping the other there. "Right then. We set sail this time tomorrow lads, so look sharp!"

"Aye, aye, captain!" A chorus of delighted shouts from the crew came, and with his typical flourish, Jack Sparrow led us down the gangplank, and back into the den of debauchery that was Tortuga.

****

"Thank you," Commodore Norrington nodded, dismissing the man who had brought him the message. Turning back to the Spanish captain that stood beside him, he resumed his questions. 

Christine wandered the edge of the deck aimlessly, book of sonnets dangling loosely from her hand, the other resting on her hat to ensure it didn't blow away in the stiff breeze. She kept to the sidelines to keep out of the way of the rushing and bustling crew members, both Spanish and English, that dashed from one deck to the other, attempting salvage. Francis was among them, and he had paused twice now, to make sure that she was alright. Each time she agreed that she was, and he had hurried off again. 

Standing for a moment at the railing, she watched the activity on the other ship with a frown. She had thought that the Spanish and the English were at _war_ in this point in history. Maybe she didn't have the exact year right after all. Well, they _did_ seem off-again on-again allies at this point of history anyway....

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft touch on her shoulder. Dropping her hand from her hat, she turned to face Norrington, who was frowning lightly. "Sparrow attacked them, two nights ago. The captain believes they may be heading to Tortuga. No one saw your sister, either."

Christine bit her lip. "Heather...Heather's probably fine."

"Well, the captain tells me that they _did _take several dresses and some pieces of jewelry. That seems to indicate a woman aboard the _Black Pearl_, at any case."

Christine smiled slightly. "Well, that _is_ encouraging. Will we be making for Tortuga, then?"

Norrington nodded. "As soon as we have finished up here."

"Good." Christine smiled, reaching out to take Norrington's gloved hand, squeezing it lightly. "Thank you, Edward."

He beamed. "For you, Christine, I would travel to the ends of the earth."

****

"Well.....have another drink boys, well have one with me, I'm home from the sea and I'm back on the shore....and if you get too drunk boys in this company, we'll roar and keep pourin'..." The song ended abruptly as I descended into a fit of the giggles, nearly spilling my tankard as I leaned heavily on the swaying pirate captain. Laughing, we made our weaving way down the cobble-stoned street of Tortuga, followed by a remarkably large group of like-inebriated ruffians, some from our crew, more from others. Apparently the few 'pirate-esque' songs I had learned before I came (by accident, admittably) to this time period were a big hit among those who had already heard the _rest_ of the drinking songs a million and one times. 

"Oh....what do ya do with a drunken sailor," I began again, taking another swig of the rum I carried. "What do ya do with a drunken sailor, er'ly in the mornin'?"

"Throw 'im in the hold with the captain's daughter," Jack sang back, tightening his grip around my waist a little. "Throw 'im in the hold with the captain's daughter, er'ly in the mornin'!"

I giggled. "Jack....the captain's daughter is a cat-'o-nine tails..." 

Jack snorted, taking a last swing of his rum. The bottle empty, he tossed it haphazardly, and whether it hit someone or not....I honestly don't remember. Hands free, he bent down, and as he already had one arm around my waist, he only had to loop the other around my overly large skirts, under my knees, and a moment later, I was swung up into his arms. "Yer a captain's daughter, ain't ye? Good enough fer me."

Still laughing, I looped my arms around his neck, and calmly pointed out another verse. "Throw 'im in the longboat 'til he's sober..."

"Spoilsport," he laughed, rubbing his nose under my jaw. 

And so we made for the dock, bathed in moonlight. I'm sure my loud, drunken singing could be heard all over Tortuga as we neared the dock. "Er'ly in the mornin'!"

****

"Damnation," Norrington muttered, as yet another of his soldiers reported the same thing. Jack Sparrow and his crew had just left that morning, and the _Dauntless_ had just missed them by a margin of about three hours. The only _encouraging_ part of the report, though slightly tainted with other details, was the accounts that stated that Jack Sparrow had been in the company of a young woman with blonde hair the night before. 

The girl had been nearly as drunk as the pirate captain, and had apparently led the patrons of _The Faithful Bride_ in a rousing singing march down the streets of Tortuga.

He only _hoped_ that they would manage to retrieve the young woman before Captain Jack Sparrow tainted her beyond all recognition of a fine young lady.

**************************

  


WAAHH! FLUFF!!!

I'll try to not make the wait so long next time.....but hey, it was a little longer than normal to compensate! Yay! *nervous grin*

Ohh - no forget - give me emails if you want to be on the update mailing list!

  



	8. It's About Time Something Changed

Alright. Er. Well. I swear that there is a perfectly _reasonable_ reason that I have not updated this story in almost a year. Yes. I'm sure that there is a good reason....

I just have no idea what it is.

GAH!

So I apologize, though I'm sure that this does _not_satisfy you, and I solemnly swear ((that I am up to no good? That too)) that I shall finish this story in short order. Mostly cause I'm mad at myself for leaving everyone hanging like this, and that was BAD of me.

So I shall fix that. MWA HA!

Err....and I still don't own anything.

I woke up feeling like absolute crap, and when I risked opening my eyes, slammed them back shut and groaned. Lovely. Hangover.

Again.

The bed shifted as someone sat beside me - and I didn't have to guess too hard to guess who that someone was - then a soft touch ran gently across my cheek. I'll admit, I leaned into that feather soft touch, reveling in something that didn't _hurt_, like the bloody afternoon sunlight did, or the slight rocking of the ship, which made my insides twist. Well, that might have been the corset, too.

"What _are_ ye doing here, luv?" Jack's voice asked, surprisingly soft. Hmm. Maybe he was taking my pounding head into consideration.

"Sleeping," I mumbled, awkwardly moving my tongue about to try and get some moisture back into my cotton ball feeling mouth. "What are _you_ doing?"

There was no response, and for the moment, I was happy to just leave it at that, Jack's soft touch on my cheek as his moved the backs of his fingers across it in concentric circles, warm blankets wrapped around my still dress-clad body, eyes closed against the sunlight that was spilling in through the open window, the sound of the breakers on the sides of the ship through said window. I was most certainly glad that the infernal fog had stopped following the _Black Pearl_around, because I really appreciated the sunlight.

Then Jack spoke again, totally ruining the mood, of course.

"Yer too fine for this kind of life."

That prompted an opening of my eyes, only to find myself staring up at the frowning face of the pirate captain. "What?" I asked, confused. "I'm a pirate's daughter, remember? I hate wearing dresses. I love sailing. I snuck aboard a navy ship, and sprung a man from a hanging. How does all of _that_strike you as too fine for this kind of life?"

Jack looked away, out the window. "Yer educated. Ye were raised as a fine lady, I'm not a fool, I know. Ye don't... ye don't belong on a pirate ship."

"What?!" I pushed myself up, making him drop his hand. "What are you talking about? This is the life I chose, or did you _not_ notice my jumping off the cliff after you?!"

"Yer a lady," he said, that old arrogance, that old smooth talking attitude taking power again as he waved a hand in an odd little circular pattern. "Ye act like a lady, ye live like a lady. A pirate captain's bed is no place for ye."

"Is _that_what this is about?" I demanded, ignoring my sore head that was crying out in protest to all this angst. "Because I won't _sleep_ with you?!"

Jack stood, turning away. "That's not it."

"Like hell it isn't," I snapped, furious. I had given up everything that I could have had back in Port Royal to follow this man, I had _abandoned_my best friend for this man, I had even given up the chance to go home and see my friends and family again for this man! "Fine. If that's the way you want it."

He didn't move. "I'll let the crew know we'll be letting you off. Which port would you like?"

"Like hell you'll do that," I growled, clambering off the bed, nearly stumbling when I caught my foot on one of the blankets. Shaking off the last blanket, I stormed over to where Jack stood, ignoring the fact that the excessive dress I still wore was wrinkled and messed, and that my hair had long ago fallen out of its twisted braid bun and had turned me into something you wouldn't take to a worm wrestle. Ignoring my rum breath and everything else that I _could_have listed as reasons to not be so stupid, I stalked around Jack, and grabbed his arm when he tried to turn away from me again.

Fisting his shirt in my better hand, I grabbed hold of his beard braids with the other, hauled his head down, and gave him the fiercest kiss I could possibly manage, tongue and all, ending off by biting down lightly on his lower lip. Pulling my head back so I could meet his wide, kohl lined eyes, I lifted my chin stubbornly. "And that's only foreplay. Get on that bed."

"What are ye talking about?" Jack asked, looking pricelessly confused. "Have ye gone _daft_?"

"No, I am _not_ daft," I snapped, eyes blazing, jaw set. "I am going to blow your stupid mind. Now get on that bed, or so help me, we can do it on the table."

"Do..." his eyes widened even further, if I had thought that was possible at all, as he finally got it. For a man who appears to be able to get whatever girl he wants, whenever he wants, he was surprisingly slow. "What happened to getting married first?!"

"Screw it," I declared, now steadily pushing him backwards towards the bed. "If you are going to get into your head some grande idea that I am too bloody _fine_ for this life because I won't give into the 'carnal pleasures of the flesh'... screw that. We'll prove once and for all right _now_ that I am _not_too fine!"

Like lightning, Jack had snapped his hands up, and caught firm hold of my wrists, pulling them away from himself, and holding them steady between us. "No."

"Oh, don't _you_ go all blushing virgin on me now," I snapped. "I am _quite_ prepared to do this, for heaven's sake, you should be too...." I glared at him. "What are you saying _no_ for?!"

Jack's jaw was clenched so hard I could see the muscles working in the side of his face and neck. He appeared, really, to be fighting with himself, eyes startlingly bright and hard in his wind-etched face. Finally, he spoke. "I will _not_allow ye to do this because _you_feel that _I _think..." he paused to take a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "Ye cannot give something like this up to prove that yer not 'fine'. No."

I tried to yank my hands away, but his iron vise grip held firm. That was going to bruise later. "This is what you _want_, isn't it?!" I yelled at him, suddenly crying. When had I started crying?

"Not like this."

And then he was gone, just like that, leaving me alone in that dismal little cabin, where I spent hours pounding uselessly against the locked door, the tears finally ceasing when I fell to sleep right there on the floor in front of the doors.

Christine let out a soft sigh of delight as the taste of good old fashioned earl grey flooded over her tongue. That was comforting, a bit of normalcy - despite the fact that her life was anything but "normal" right now - in the midst of an otherwise truly surreal situation.

Setting down her teacup, she looked up at Edward - it seemed odd to think of him as 'Edward', and not Commodore Norrington - and smiled when she realized that he had been staring at her. Upon realizing that she had caught him at what seemed to be his most favourite pursuit lately, his cheekbones coloured, and he hastily looked down at his tea cup. Aww... dear Edward. Christine peeked down into her own tea for a moment, then spoke up, "Where are we bearing now, Edward?"

"Hmm?" Norrington perked up a little, then nodded thoughtfully. "India. That last merchant ship gave us the impression that Sparrow would be aiming towards India next, perhaps to sell their latest take. We hope to find your sister there."

"Of course," Christine nodded distractedly, considering that. India. Ooh.... to travel. She didn't even get to travel when she was in her _own_time period, now here she was in the middle of the eighteenth century or so - she hadn't really dared to ask anyone the date yet - and she was traveling all over the blessed world. Now, if only she could convince Norrington to head to Japan next, then her dreams would all be made. "What will happen to Sparrow, when he's captured?"

Norrington's eyes grew clouded. "We shall have no choice. He will have to be returned to Port Royal, to face justice."

Christine frowned. "To be hung - again."

"Aye," Norrington said softly, suddenly looking a little lost. "I would imagine that you and your sister will be heading home then - I do apologize that we did not make it to St. George in our haste to retrieve Sparrow, but..."

"Stop it," Christine interrupted him. "Just stop it. I do _not_ want to go back there, as I have told you several times. I mean it when I say that there is nothing there for me, at _all_. I have decided that Port Royal is my home now. And as such it shall remain."

He looked startled, and maybe...maybe a little hopeful. "You truly mean that?"

"I do," she said stubbornly. "Now, tell me. What can I expect in India?"

"Bloody hell," Francis Parsons muttered, squinting at the ceiling. Where _was_he?

"Well. 'Bout time ye were wakin' up."

Hearing the woman's voice, Parsons bolted up, staring about him wildly. He was in a dingy, disreputable style inn room, and someone who was obviously a bar maid - she looked familiar, had she been named... Genevieve? - stood at the end of his bed, arms crossed over her aproned chest. "Where... where am I? Where's the ship?"

"Yer in one of the _Faithful Bride's_ rooms," she said, smirking. "Ye came looking to us for information... few days ago. One of our more... angry customers 'it ye over the 'ead with a table. Ye were really thrown for a turn there, boy, and by the time we realized what had really 'appened, yer ship had left without ye."

Parson's jaw dropped. "I have to go then!" he tried standing, but a wave of nausea hit him so hard he sat back down with a thud.

"Yer not goin' anywhere," Genevieve laughed. "Now, relax. Yer gonna be 'ere for while."

I will not lie to you.

The next three months were the most miserable time in my life. Twice, I was offered the chance to get off the boat at the harbor we had halted at, but they were within three and five days of my being locked in there, respectively, and at that point, I was still stubborn enough that I refused.

And so, for three months, I saw only AnaMaria and Gibbs, and a few glimpses of the crew through the door when they opened it three times daily to give me food, and the two times over those months that I managed to bribe them into giving me rum. I'd managed to drink most of what Jack had stashed around his cabin in the first two weeks, two weeks I spent in one solid drunken stupor, for which I paid by having a solid week of feeling miserably sick. I had thought that Jack would eventually give in, or at the very least, would _eventually_kick me out of his cabin and take it back. Instead, I stayed there by myself, reading his three books over and over, drinking his rum, and practicing my sword work. I had to do _something_. About two months in, my hand had recovered enough that I had achieved a bit of mobility, and I began to write my story, albeit slowly with sloppy handwriting.

I didn't see Jack once for three months.

And this led to me thinking. At first, I was just so _mad_at him that I didn't care less if I ever saw him again. Then slowly, I began to realize that I really had been a spoiled brat, and though I didn't think he'd been justified in what he'd said to me - I would _never_ forgive that, darn it - I realized where he was coming from.

And that led to a conclusion.

And a realization.

I _needed_ Jack. For three months, I slept lousy because I needed him there just to be this comforting warmth. I missed the banter, his goofy grin, the ridiculous swagger. I'd take that man any way I could get him.

And that meant that it would _never_ do to have him think I was just a fine young cultured lady.

"Gibbs," I smiled, making my eyes as big and puppy-dog pout worthy as I possibly could. "I noticed the sea gulls out the window. Are we nearing on land?"

Gibbs looked awkward, considering this. He'd obviously been given orders not to give me too much information, but this time, I'd noticed something. "Well, we do need supplies... The East India companies been too close on our trail..."

I grinned. Bingo. "India, Gibbs? Is that where we are?"

He got that wonderful deer-in-the-headlights look. "Well..."

"Thank you, Gibbs," I smiled sweetly, then closed the door. About time.

Two nights later, the _Black Pearl_was bobbing gently in the harbour of a small British Indian port, while the crew - and the rest of the town - were out celebrating the haul of gold and what it could get them. With no one on the ship except a few sentries, no one noticed me, decked back out in my old clothes - unfortunately with three months of grim on them, but at least I matched everyone else in town - with a sword strapped on my side and a small gold purse shoved in my top, sneaking out of the window, down the rope, and onto the dock.

Setting one of Captain Barbossa's old, feathered hats - the man had a startlingly large collection - very firmly on my head, I set off down the dock at a swagger.

To the bars!

"Oh, bloody hell!" I snapped, kicking fiercely at the stone wall. "Blasted East India company..."

That's right. I was sitting in a prison cell. And I was _not_impressed with it all. I had just been minding my own business, sitting there drinking my good old rum, when that _idiot_ of a drunk had tried to pinch my rear. Only _one_ drunk pirate is allowed to do it, and that fat old man was _not_him!

I would have thought I was _perfectly_ within my rights to grab a glass bottle and smash it over his head, before kicking his with all my might so that he fell back onto someone else's table and broke it.

It made sense to _me_.

Apparently the patrons of the _Singing Mermaid_ were less than impressed, however.

So once the East India company had sorted out all the fighting and disentangled drunks from piles and hauled everyone who had been fighting off to the local goal, there I was, arms crossed over my chest, incriminating split lip and bruised cheek, not to mention my bloody knuckles and the fact that I was breaking yet _another_bottle over someone _else's_ head the moment the red coats had arrived.

Fortunately, I had a cell to myself, because I don't know how many _more_ of their prisoners would have left with facial and groin injuries if they put me in the same cell with the idiots.

A guard chose that moment to tramp down the stairs, followed by a man who looked like this place's equivalent of Norrington - stuck up, powered wigged, angry, bitter, and all around on a power-trip. He sneered at all of us, then snapped, "Stand up, you lagabouts."

A sneered back, but did as told, hat pulled down low over my face. He began striding up and down the row of cells, glaring at us all in turn, then paused when he looked at me, apparently confused. "Take off the hat."

I had no inclination to do so, but in the interest of not losing my head - perhaps literally - I reached up - with the scarred hand, he might as well see that I was not some pristine little lady - and whipped the hat off. I glared back at him, but was quite surprised to see the startled expression cross his face. "Well." he said sternly. "So we finally catch you. Where's Sparrow?"

A single one of my eyebrows rose. Well. _This_was interesting. "No idea."

He scowled further. "Do not _lie _to me, Morgan. We were warned to look out for the daughter of the pirate Morgan - she had apparently fallen in with Sparrow and the _Black Pearl_. Where is he?"

Oooh... they actually thought I was the daughter of Morgan, and yet I had never told them it, or had someone else point to me and tell that I was the daughter of Morgan? This was interesting. "What makes you think I'm a daughter of a pirate?"

He drew a sharp breath, letting it out in an equally sharp sigh. "I was in Port Royal the day Sparrow _was_to meet his fate."

My eyes widened. Oh. So _that_ was how they knew. "No idea. Haven't seen him in months. We parted ways in Tortuga."

Well, close enough.

He closed his eyes for a moment, considering that, then nodded. "I see. Then he didn't give you the baubles you are wearing?"

Very, very slowly, I glanced down at my hands, where I wore six different rings and three bracelets. Every single one of which I had procured during the evening by practicing my art of sneaking pretty, expensive things from the pockets of drunk pirates. "No," I answered at last. "He didn't. They're mine."

His hand snaked through the bars and caught my right arm before I could pull it away, spinning it so that my wrist faced up, and pulling the sleeve back. There on my slightly grimy arm was the long scar from my sword, and a little picture I had drawn of a cat with fire coming from its paws in ink one afternoon while I was bored. "What is this?" he demanded, pointing to the picture.

"A Hellcat," I said smugly.

"No brand," he scowled, apparently unimpressed by my Hellcat. "You've never been caught?"

I glanced away, and couldn't help my little smirk. I always _was_ really good at speaking before I thought things through.

"Well, I _have_ only been a pirate for three months."

Okay, I promise that I shall try my darndest to get the next chapter out REALLY SOON!

GOMEN NASAI! I AM SORRY!


	9. Brands, Rings, and Flags

Okay. I know you want to kill me because it's taken _way_ too long to update this thing, but I worked hard on it for awhile, and oh my goodness, finally I have gotten this done.

So I'm sitting around drinking Vanilla Coke and Crown Royal ((Which really makes your insides warm... I didn't know that!)) and writing. Hope you like.

_Kery J. Wales_ - Thank you! I'm glad you like the story, and I totally understand what you mean about the reviewing thing... my computer does the same thing. :D

_leggyfreak003: _I'm sorry it took so long... TT I am so sorry!

_VagrantCandy: _I did it again. And I am sorry. Again.

_Morph:_ I know about James... but he's Edward cause I say he is. -- After all, I _did_ come up with that before they released the extra scenes... And you are smart. :D

_TriGemini:_ Ah! Long review! happy rum dances You make me so happy! Yay! Thank you!

Okay, if I can't even manage to maintain my _own_ stories, how the heck are you supposed to believe that I own the original movie? HA!

((In other words, I don't own PotC. So don't sue me. Please.))

Biting my tongue, I stumbled down the dock, right arm cradled gingerly against my stomach. I had been granted my sword back, and no one had even bothered to remove my numerous stolen baubles, which surprised me, so all in all, I was in much the same shape I had been when I headed along this dock earlier, only in more pain and in less of a good mood.

I didn't even bother to _try_ sneaking onto the ship this time. Instead, I tramped right up the main gangplank, ignoring everyone staring at me as I aimed directly for Jack's cabin. My cabin.

Just as my left hand was reaching down to grasp the door handle, the door swung open, and I found myself staring wide-eyed at Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Get in here," he said firmly, grasping my upper left arm, and yanking me into the cabin.

As the door slammed shut behind me and Jack set to locking it, I pushed forward and snatched one of the three rum bottles off the table, twisting the cork out with my teeth. Just as I was about to take a swig, Jack snatched the bottle from my fingers, and I glared at him. "Give that back!"

"Not until you tell me the truth." He crossed his arms. "Why is it you refuse to leave the ship when offered, but then you sneak off?"

"I came back," I pointed out lightly, waving my left hand in a weary, circular motion at him. That drew his attention, and his dark rimmed eyes narrowed as he examined the three rings I had on that hand - the only conspicuously empty one my ring finger. "Oh, do you like them? I was practicing."

"What did you do out there?" he frowned.

I sighed. "Went drinking, actually. Got in a bar fight, got thrown in prison, got recognized, got branded, got released, walked home, got snatched up by you, got my rum stolen, got annoyed. Can I have my rum back now?"

I didn't get my rum back.

"You got _branded_!" Jack bolted forward, slamming the rum bottle down on the table so hard that some of the liquid splashed up and out. A second later, he had grabbed my right hand and pulled it away from my body, and though I tried to keep my arm from turning, he soon had my hand wrist down as he stared at my arm, sucking in a sharp breath.

The skin was puckered and pink, a mottled red in the sharp, knife-cut like shape of a capital 'P', something that would make a scar like no other.

Jack just stared at my arm for a long time, looking horrified. Swallowing, trying to ignore the re-flared pain in my arm, I started to speak. "Jack..."

Before I could say any more, his arms snaked around me, and crushed me tightly against his chest. "I never should have let you follow me," he started, but when I opened my mouth to protest, he pressed on. "But I never should have doubted ye. Ye shouldn't have had to get yerself _branded_ to make me recognize ye as a pirate."

Letting out a relieved sigh, I melted against his chest, relaxing, until I tried again.

"Rum?"

Jack's roar of laughter made me smile.

God, I'd missed the man.

"Thank you, Edward," Christine accepted the tureen of gravy, and carefully poured it over her beef, frowning in concentration.

They had paused in a relatively stable Indian British colony, both to take on supplies and to ask information. Norrington had then, with the fresh supplies, had the ship cooks make himself and her a veritable feast, so now Christine was being spoiled with food like she never had been before. She had never been more appreciative for the corset.

"How is the beef this evening?" he asked, biting his lower lip adorably.

Christine smiled, hiding a giggled. Norrington was so _cute_! "It's wonderful, Edward. This entire feast is delicious. What is the occasion?"

He smiled. "Do I need an occasion to dine in the company of a beautiful lady?"

Christine flushed. "Edward, you flatter me."

Polite conversation continued for the rest of the meal, from the sweet potatoes through to the pound cake and wine. When the meal was finally over, Norrington suggested they withdraw 'to his drawing room', he had said with a smile, indicating the two sitting chairs by the window, extinguishing all other lights until the room was illuminated only by a good dozen softly shining candles. They did so, and Christine relaxed a little, looking out over the dark water. "It's a beautiful night."

"And I hold beautiful company," Norrington smiled, reaching across to take her hand.

I'm going to warn you right now. I think I actually gagged when Christine told me this part of the story. I mean, _sappy_. So if you don't really like the romance part of this story ((And if you don't, I have no idea why you're even reading this story)) than I advise you stop reading. At least for the rest of this chapter.

Because this is so sugary, I can feel my teeth rotting just penning the words.

"And mine a true gentleman," she turned, to look back at him. "You are a fine man, Edward."

"I have heard that said before," he said, a little sadly. "A fine man with a fine career, lacking nothing."

"Save one thing, I believe," she said gently, running her thumb gently over the back of his hand.

"Save one thing," he agreed. "A marriage to and the _love of_ a fine woman."

There was silence for a long moment, as the two of them simply looked at each other, then Norrington smiled, looking down for a moment. "We have gotten to know each other fairly well, have we not, Christine, over these last several months?"

"I would say that five months of sailing in tight quarters would lead two people to get to know each other well, yes." Christine smiled. "I greatly enjoy your company, Edward."

Norrington's eyes lit up, and his thumb began kneading the knuckles of Christine's hand in earnest. "And I enjoy yours, Christine. I enjoy your company very much. I... I feel awkward saying this, but as you don't have any family left, save your elusive sister... I suppose there is no one to ask for a blessing."

"Yes?" Christine asked, smile growing.

"I... oh bother," Norrington muttered, then dropped out of his chair, dipping to one knee. "Would you do me the fine honour of being that fine woman that I might love? Will you marry me?"

"Finally!" Christine yelled, bending forward to throw her arms dramatically around Norrington's neck, hugging him close. "I thought you would never ask!"

"May I take that, then," Norrington chuckled, struggling a little to stand, taking Christine up with him, "That this is a _yes_?"

"Yes, yes, a million ways, _yes_!" Christine cried, delighted, kissing the man fiercely.

Norrington kissed back with equal fervor, then swung her around in a dramatic circle, making her skirts swirl around her. Laughing, he kissed his way across her jaw, then beaming, kissed her properly once more.

"She said _yes_!"

"Three rum, gentlemen?"

"Damn redcoat," one of the inebriated pirates muttered, but snatched at the tankards the man carried on his tray.

Sighing, Parsons set the rest of the tankards on the table, then walked back to the dingy bar, leaning against it in fatigue. "How do you _stand_ this all day and night?" He had ended up staying long after the rest of his crew was gone, all because some idiot had decided that revenge on a redcoat sounded like fun. So instead, he was stuck. Apparently not many British naval officers came to Tortuga, so he was here until a ship would eventually arrive. Whenever _that_ might be.

"Ah make good money at it," Genevieve said, smirking. "Us unmarried pirates daughters need to do _sumptin_ to survive, don't we?"

"Yes, I suppose that is true," Parsons agreed reluctantly, then yelped and jumped when one of the _very_ drunk pirates slapped his ass. "I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself, good sir!"

"Yer a cute one, ain't ye?" the man sneered, laughing. "And a new one, too... you looking for someone to take care of ye... pretty boy?"

Parsons froze, completely horrified, but Genevieve simply snapped the man's hand with her dirty glass rag. "Back off, Dirk. He's spoken for."

"And who's that?" Dirk slurred, pointing at Parsons. "For that sweet thing I'd take on _any_ man in the... in the... in the place. I would."

Parsons, meanwhile, was slowly edging away from the man.

Genevieve smirked, and crossed her arms over her aproned chest. "Ain't no man, ye lazy slob. Ye wanna take me on, ye idjet?"

"What?" Parsons yelped, even as Dirk leaned forward, bloodshot eyes narrowed.

"_You_? HA! You haven't got the gall, Gen, to sleep with no redcoat!"

"Haven't I?" Genevieve smirked, then leaned over the counter, grabbed Parson's apron strings, yanked him halfway over the bar, and kissed him soundly. Pulling back with a mischievous grin, she snapped her towel at Dirk again. "So back off, ya lout."

"Right..." the man chuckled, holding up his hands in defeat. "Ye win."

"Good," Genevieve smirked, then turned back to look at Parsons, who was still staring at her with a stunned, deer-in-the-headlights look.

"C'mon then, Francis luv," Genevieve smirked, and pulled herself around the bar, still clinging to his apron. "Coming upstairs?"

"Ah..." Francis just stared at her, then slowly, shook himself back to the real world. "Ah... yes?"

"Good," Genevieve leaned forward to whisper huskily in his ear. "I say we see if we can't make us a good ol' fashion 21-gun salute."

"Wait..." Parsons blinked. "How... what...?"

Genevieve bit down lightly on Francis' earlobe, and hissed, "This is an order from yer captain, sailor. Yer comin' wit' me upstairs, an' then ye are gonna raise that battle flag. Savvy?"

"Oh..." Parson's eyes widened, and a slow startled smile spread across his face. "Oh. Savvy."

There we are... sorry it took so long.

I am SORRY! TT

Almost finished this story... finally... o.O


	10. Weddin' Bells?

Bwa ha! UPDATE!

I don't think any of you can realize how nice it is to wake up wrapped up in the man you love's arms when you hadn't been able to do that in over three months. You seem to appreciate things more, when something like that happens.

Delighted that I had the solid, warm body back in the bed, which had always seemed, to me, too big for just me, I just snuggled closer to Jack, breathing deep of that musky, heady scent he had. I suppose that was just the scent of salt water, tar, rum and an unwashed body, but somehow, when it was Jack, it just made me feel comfortable and safe.

Jack's fingers started carding through my hair, which seemed to be the way he woke me up every morning, over these last two months since that one fateful day in which I had snuck off the ship. In case you're wondering, we still hadn't slept together. We had, however, had a serious discussion about it that night, over rum, and had come to the conclusion that we were going to wait. A little while, anyway. Jack seemed... content, I suppose, if nothing else. I had honestly thought that this issue was going to be addressed sometime _before_ now, because, quite honestly? Two months were we slept in the same bed, yet never went any further than first base? ((My goodness, that phrase made me sound like my _mother_, didn't it!)) I mean, we _are_ talking about Captain Jack Sparrow here. I had thought that he at _least_ would try to get me to change my mind.

"We're setting ashore this evening," Jack said quietly, now twisting a random curl around his finger. "Tortuga. Ye coming along?"

"Actually," I frowned, thinking. "I was thinking that I might investigate a few of the shops, see if I can't get a new pair of boots. The soles are peeling right off on mine."

"Hmm." Jack suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and began rummaging on the floor for his clothes. Sometime over the last two months - I'm not sure when, exactly - we had started sleeping in nothing but our strict undergarments. In Jack's case, that meant his pants, because evidently, he didn't wear anything under those delightedly well fitted blue pants. In my case, that meant, of course, that I wore my green pants, and half of a woman's shift I had hacked the skirt off of. It made a nice tank top, to be honest, albeit one with lacy edges and lacing up the front. It was comfortable.

"Jack?" I asked, frowning at his lack of response. This wasn't like Jack. I mean, Jack, _quiet_?

"Sounds fine," he nodded, then turned, and dipped his head to kiss me, lightly. "See ye on deck, luv."

"Right," I nodded once, still frowning. Something was up with Jack. He was weirdly distant and removed. What in the world was wrong with him?

Probably ten minutes later, I was pulling on the rigging, lashing the rope tight to where it belonged. It had come loose, again, and I was getting sick and tired of trying to fix the same problem over and over.

"Still comin' loose?" a voice beside me said, and I glanced up from the rope to see AnaMaria leaning over me.

"Aye," I muttered, tugging a little harder on the rope. "There's something else coming loose on this ship too. Jack's acting daft."

"More daft than usual?" AnaMaria pointed out with a quirked eyebrow. "This be _Captain Jack Sparrow_ of which ye speak."

"I know," I grumbled, tightening the rope in place with a well placed thunk of my peeling boot heel. "But I'm _used_ to him being daft. But not like _this_. He barely spoke to me this morning, he seems to be avoiding talking to me altogether."

"Well, ye still haven't let him 'ave his wicked ways wit' ye yet. We'd all know, if ye had." AnaMaria smirked, arms crossed.

I groaned, and dropped my head into my hands. "Everything comes back to fornication with that man!" I growled, then turned and without hesitation, punched the mast. Sure, it should have hurt like hell, but I had the distinct advantage of not having enough nerve endings in that and, so I couldn't very well _feel_ it, now could I? "I _told_ him, we didn't have to wait... but he hasn't _said _anything!"

"He still thinks yer too fine fer this life," Gibbs said suddenly, making me jump. I had no idea the man had been standing there.

"Wind in the sails!" Cotton's parrot chimed in, as the mute man looked at us with that same indecipherable expression he always had. "Wind in the sails!"

I frowned, glaring past them towards the helm, where Jack stood, oblivious, humming to himself as he rocked back and forth at the wheel. "Too bloody fine, eh? Fine. If that's the way he'd like to play this game... it can be done." Spinning on my heel sharply, I looked back at AnaMaria, Gibbs, Cotton and his parrot. "Who wants to help me?"

"Christine!"

Christine threw her arms around Elizabeth, hugging the girl she had come to think of as a dear friend tightly.

"How was the voyage?" Elizabeth asked, smiling. "I know you did not manage to find your sister, but were you safe?"

"Oh, quite safe," Christine laughed. "How are you and Will?" she asked, beaming.

Elizabeth's already happy face lit up just a little more. "Never in my wildest dreams, Christine, could I have imagined how wonderful Will would be! I knew I loved him, but he is a great, fine man."

"I'm delighted to hear that," Christine smiled broadly, truly happy.

"We're getting married next month," Elizabeth added, pulling back to settle herself on one of the settees. "Will and I would be honoured if you would be my maid of honour."

Christine had to rein in her instinct to squeal with delight. "I would be honoured! But you have to return the honour, Elizabeth."

"How might I do that?" Elizabeth asked, frowning slightly, confused.

"Ah... is she about to ruin the surprise?" Governor Swann's voice interrupted, and he and Norrington entered the room, both smiling. "Elizabeth, I have just received some wonderful news about dear Christine."

"Oh?" Elizabeth looked surprised. "What might that be?"

Norrington beamed, walking up to gently lay a hand on Christine's shoulder. "Miss Christine Morgan and I are going to be wed."

There was a moment of silence, then Elizabeth's eyes absolutely lit up, and she reached forward to hug Christine again. "Congratulations, Christine! My greatest congratulations to you! This is happy news indeed, I _must_ inform Will!"

"There is much to plan," Governor Swann beamed, looking quite pleased. Two weddings coming soon in short order! "Perhaps you girls would like to discuss everything while I confer with the Commodore?"

"Of course," Elizabeth beamed, then took Christine's hand, and nearly pulled her from the room. "Christine, we _must_ speak to Mother Parker. She will want to hear all about it!"

I had a hunch.

I know what you're thinking, big deal, Heather has a hunch. Call in the bloody riot police. But that's not the point - the point is, that when I have a hunch - I'm usually right. And today, my hunch was more than probably right, I _knew_ that it was. Because, call it woman's intuition, call it instinct, call it what you will, a woman just _knows_ when her man is cheating on her. It's like a little voice, hissing, "Did you _know_?" and of course you _know_, because you're a woman, and you _know_ things like this.

So I knew exactly what to expect when, new boots echoing satisfyingly on the rickety wooden steps, I stormed up to the upper level of _The Faithful Bride_. And wasn't _that_ an ironic name?

Genevieve had been kind enough to point me in the right direction. And to my utter shock, _Francis Parsons_ had been behind the counter with her, and had smiled at me, told me to have good luck, then went back to serving drinks.

What a strange, strange world I live in.

I paused for a moment outside the door of the room where Jack, Gibbs, Will and I had once stayed. _Seven months ago_, if you can believe that I had been in the Caribbean that long. Incredible.

Then, without knocking, and without bothering to check the lock - because I knew it was locked already - I reared back, and with all the strength in my legs, kicked the door.

It splintered a little, letting out a sickening crunch, and there were only slightly muffled cries of horror and yelps inside. Without waiting, I kicked the door again, and again, and again, until finally it splintered it, finally giving up. One bodily hit with my shoulder, and the door caved halfway in, letting me easily kick it the rest of the way in and step inside the room.

Jack was standing beside the bed, hair a worse mess than usual, wearing only his pants, and even then, they looked exactly like they'd just been pulled on in the last ten seconds. Which, of course, they _had_ been. He was, I am pleased to say, quite red in the face. Beside him in the bed, was Giselle - one of Jack's old favourites, of course - wearing nothing but the sheet she had pulled up in a vain attempt to retain her modesty. That woman _has_ no modesty left, _everyone_ in Tortuga knew about her lack of it. Everything about it.

"Ah... Hellcat, luv..." Jack said, stepping forward. "I can explain, I can."

I just held up my hands. "Don't you _dare_ go giving me your excuses, Jack Sparrow. But if you don't gather your clothing in the next three seconds, I _will_ drag you back to the _Pearl_ _myself_, and I won't let you get dressed. You are _in for it_, Sparrow."

Jack hesitated, weighing his options.

"Sparrow," I hissed, eyes narrowed. "You have been caught red handed with the village bicycle." Seeing their blank faces, I hissed a little more vindictively, "The village _slut_, Sparrow. There isn't a person in _town_ who hasn't screwed _that_. Now, unless you _really _want to loose your most valuable booty - being your God given, precious _family jewels_... you'll be coming along now, _won't you, Jack_!"

Jack let out a slightly startled sound, snatched his hat and plunked it on his head, shoved his foot in one boot, then half hopped into the other as he followed me out of the room, leaving a spluttering, furious Giselle behind.

I didn't even turn around to see if he was following me.

Because I already knew that he was.

Oh, the wonders of being a woman.

I knew full well that everyone was staring at us - one furious, scorned, hellfire fulled pirate woman storming down the street with one hand tightly gripping the hilt of her sword. And behind her, the most infamous pirate captain on the seven seas, half naked, with only his pants, boots, hat, sword and pistol. Apparently, he'd grabbed his gun belt before fleeing the room.

And yet... I couldn't bring myself to care about that.

The plan was working its way over and over in my brain, making sure that I had every detail right.

And thus far... everything was going to the _letter_.

I stormed up onto the deck of the _Pearl_, and as we'd all agreed, the rest of the crew was already there, on deck, watching. Waiting. A moment later, Jack stomped up behind me, then stopped, swaying a little in that odd way he does when he say the whole crew there. "Now... what's going on here?"

"Draw anchor, Mr. Gibbs," I said, then turned to look at the rest of the crew. "Hop to it, ye scurvy dogs! Look lively, now!"

"Now, what _are_ ye doing?" Jack sounded a little put out. "Ordering _my_ crew around, are ye?"

Spinning on my heel again, I stalked up to Jack, and jabbed my finger in his chest.

Mmm... rock hard, tanned, muscled chest... sweaty from the heat and the quick march over... okay. Heather, stop getting distracted. We're not just doing this for the heck of it so that I can fondle Jack's chest. That comes _later_.

"You made a _very_ poor decision, Captain," I growled. "A very bad decision that you _promised_ that you wouldn't make. You told me we were going to _talk_ about this. And still," I shook my head. "Such a foolish decision, Jack. Now I have no choice."

The man gave me his delightfully adorable confused expression again. "Er... luv... what are ye intending?"

AnaMaria stepped forward, hands on her hips. "Captain... you owe me a ship. Which makes me a genuine pirate captain, got that?"

"Er... yes?" Jack said slowly, still horribly confused, now looking back and forth between myself and AnaMaria, almost swaying on his feet as he did so.

"Which means, as a pirate captain, she has every right and every power to perform pirate code binding marriages," I said, arms crossed over my chest as I watched him. "Didn't mean to trick you into this, Jack, but we're getting married." I reached into my vest pocket, and withdrew two gold rings, both very heavy, and with large black stones in them. "I even stole us the rings, Jack."

"What?" Jack squeaked.

"You marrying me, or do I need to get the sword out?" I asked, grinning fiercely at him. "I wouldn't have, Jack, but you really should have known better than to cross the daughter of Captain _Morgan_, Jack. It's rings, or the sword gets personal with _your_ personal bits."

One of Jack's hands strayed lower, as though he could protect his 'personal bits', then he suddenly shrugged expansively, grinning. "Why not? I _love_ weddings! Break out the rum!"

A cheer went up from one of the various crew members, and I, smirking, turned to AnaMaria. "Make it quick, luv. I'm not risking his escape again."

There was laughter for that one, then AnaMaria crossed her arms, and looked at the two of us. "Captain Jack Sparrow. Do ye take this here Hellcat as your wife? Yer Missus Jack Sparrow?"

Jack threw an arm around my shoulder, and grinned. "Why the hell not?"

"And Hellcat Morgan," AnaMaria smirked. "Ye take this scurvy pirate dog as yer mister, yer husband?"

My smirk easily rivaled hers. "Hells yes."

"Then kiss the bride, ye bloody pirate," AnaMaria laughed.

And Jack did just so. I was _quite _happy with this turn of events, going so far as to jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck, letting him support my weight enough that we stayed at least temporarily upright.

"Get ye gone, ye scallywags!" someone laughed, and I was quite content to let that happen... as in, hopping back down, I turned, and dragged my Captain - and though the ceremony had been kind of scarily pathetic - my _husband_ towards his - _our_ - cabin.

Pushing him inside, I stepped in myself, before spinning, and leaning out, resting my hands on the doorknobs.

"No rest for the wicked!" I called cheerfully to the crew, who laughed and catcalled, then slammed the door shut.

I had more important things on my mind.

Of course, it _should_ have occurred to me that I was _not_ a great legendary seducer, and Captain Jack Sparrow _was_. Which was why it totally caught be off guard, that the moment the door was closed, I was back up against it with no preamble, Jack pressing me against the old wood as he plundered my mouth.

Groaning, I melted into the man's embrace, fully content to let the man finally, _finally_ have his wicked way with me.

After all, I always swore that I would save myself for marriage.

And I was married.

This was _good_.

"When did you get _this_?" Jack asked, fingers tracing the pattern on my back. I suppose he hadn't expected me to have a tattoo spread completely over my back, of a black panther walking its sinuous way down my spine, red ink flames rising from its clawed paws.

"About a month ago," I said idly, head resting on my crossed arms, which rested on the pillow. "It's a hellcat, can't you tell?"

"Of course," Jack laughed, fingers trailing over the lines of the tattoo, making me shiver. "A hellcat. You _are_ a pirate, luv."

"You were still doubting it?" I asked, eyebrows arched.

Jack chuckled, and leaned down, trailing kisses along the tattoo in place of his giners. "Never for a moment, luv. Never."

Whoot! Just an epilogue left, and that will be short!


	11. Epilogue And That's ALL Folks!

Well... it took me long enough to get this thing finished, and its been almost two years since this thing started. Thank you to all my reviewers and readers who were with me on this crazy ride, thank you for your patience with my slow updates, and lazy writing.

You guys rock, and thanks for _everything_!

"Bloody hell," I muttered, tiptoeing as well as I could, glancing over my shoulder constantly, expecting a red coat _any_ second.

"Relax, luv," Jack's voice hissed at me from up above, and I rolled my eyes, slipping after him. It was dark in the alley, and quiet, and all I could do was hope that no one would hear either of us. Because even Commodore Norrington couldn't keep the two of us from the noose _forever_.

Finally, Jack's hand reached out and seized mine, and he squeezed comfortingly. "We're here," he hissed, and opened a door, spilling sudden light out into the alleyway. Darting quickly inside, I was suddenly engulfed in a hug.

"_Heather_!"

Looking down, I found myself looking at a head of pale blonde hair, and grinned at my best friend - my _sister_. "Hey Christine. Haven't been called that in a _very_ long time."

"We like calling her the Hellcat these days," Jack smirked, walking across the room to clasp the hand of a certain blacksmith, and tip his hat with a little smirk at a powder-wigged gentleman. "Will, and _Edward_. How are ye doing, gentlemen?"

"Jack," Will smiled, reaching forward to clap the pirate on the back, hugging him briefly. "Wonderful."

"And the Commodore?" Jack asked, grinning.

"Well," Norrington nodded stiffly, nearly jumping as a small child suddenly ran into the room and into his legs, clinging to his pants. "Melissa, what _are_ you doing out of bed?"

"Melissa?" I repeated, glancing away from Christine to see the Commodore lifting a small blonde girl onto his hip. "Oh my goodness..." my eyes widened. "She looks... she looks like a little _you_, Christine!"

"She should," Christine beamed, walking over to the Commodore, and smoothing the girl's hair. "She _is_ my daughter."

"No way!" I gasped, then looked around, eyes widening. "You married the _Commodore_!"

"You married the pirate," Norrington pointed out. "I don't see how this is any different."

"Oh Christine, I am so _happy_ for you!" I squealed, hugging her tightly, then leaning back, eyes wide. "And you're expecting another, _aren't you_!"

Elizabeth came into the room at that moment, carrying a small, swaddled bundle in her arms. "You're one to talk, Miss Morgan."

"Elizabeth!" I beamed, stepping forward to half hug her, mindful of the sleeping child she held. He couldn't have been older than three months. "So good to see you! What is the little one's name?"

"James," Elizabeth smiled, then reached her own spare hand forward, laying a gentle hand on my own rounded stomach. "And yours?"

"William," Jack said, waving a hand in a little rotating pattern, feet up on the table already, a bottle procured from _somewhere_. "Or Mary. I like Mary, for a little girl."

"But he won't be Mary, because this is a boy," I laughed, hands on my stomach. "I can tell. Women know these things."

"So they do," Christine laughed. "I do think Melissa is about to have a brother as well. I was thinking of naming his Darren. What do you think?"

"After your nephew?" I asked, smiling. "Christine, that would be wonderful."

"Ladies, please," Commodore Norrington said suddenly, motioning to the table. "Sit. Get yourselves off your feet."

"That _would_ be nice," I admitted, and walked over to where Jack sat. Immediately, he swung his legs off the table, and wrapped his arms around my stomach when I sat directly on his lap. The others gave us off looks, gaping at this total lack of propriety, but I _liked_ my Jack chair, and I rarely sat in chairs anymore _without_ being in his lap. He was comfortable, and he'd been shockingly sweet since he found out I was going to be having the newest Sparrow.

The others sat as well - though they all sat in their own chairs - and before long, we were drinking, talking, and laughing. So many things had _happened_ since I jumped off that wall, following the man of my dreams, and I needed to hear the rest of it.

"Alright," I said, retrieving the bag I'd brought along, and thunking the heavy book I had carried in it, my ink pot, and several quills on the table.

"Tell me _everything_."

Time to write.

The ending... yeah. It really leaves something to be desired, doesn't it? le sigh

BUT... IT'S OVER!

Thank you all for the fun! You guys rock!


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